Chapter Twenty-Seven: Mixed Signals

The following morning, Cardin lumbered out of bed for an early breakfast. It wasn't quite the early start Weiss had forced on him, but early enough to rush over to the CCT and catch Mr. Schnee in his office.

On his way to the docks, he went to Cinder's room. He had half-expected no answer when he knocked on the door, but Mercury opened it almost immediately. He invited him to come with him to the CCT. Mercury was in the middle of turning down his invitation when Cinder rapped on her bedframe. He flinched and said he would be happy to come with him.

"Mind filling me in on what this is all about?" Mercury asked as they went to the Bullhead docks.

"I'm calling Mr. Schnee this morning. Cinder wants to keep tabs on it."

They walked in awkward silence for a minute. Cardin mulled over how to start a conversation and decided to try where they had left off.

"What was your dad like? You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

For a while, Mercury didn't say anything. It wasn't until they had strapped into the Bullhead that he said, "An asshole. There were only two things he enjoyed, his job and his booze. He trained me so he'd have a second man on the mission, a fallback in case the job went wrong, or a decoy." He snorted. "Maybe he meant what he said about raising me to stand on my own two feet, but he had a hell of a way of showing it." He slapped his feet together and looked up at him. "What about you? Any daddy issues you'd like to get off your chest?"

"My story's not that different from yours."

"Yeah right. Did he beat you within an inch of your life if you were too slow?"

"I got switched when I was a kid anytime I had trouble reading." Cardin cleared his throat. "I trust you'll keep this to yourself?"

"You keep my secrets, and I'll keep yours."

Cardin raised an eyebrow. "Even from Cinder?"

"Well, maybe not her. I'll keep them from Emerald though."

"Fair enough. So, I have reading problems. When I was younger, my father thought I was just being stubborn and tried to beat me into reading better. It wasn't until I was seven that he learned it was a mental condition. Didn't stop him from trying, but at least the beatings stopped. He would have me stuck in a chair for hours on end with stacks of papers to read. Day after day, it was hour after hour of reading. There were times I wanted to smack my face on the table."

"Let me guess, it didn't work?"

"It helped. I can manage a paragraph or two just fine, and I can fake it with longer documents, but no matter how hard I try, my eyes keep sliding off the page."

Mercury shook his head. "Lame. Mine's worse."

"The whole train until you drop thing, right? Did that too. When I wasn't glued to a chair learning finance, politics, or reading, I was in the sparring ring with Gideon. I learned a little bit of everything and a lot of my main weapon."

"You don't seem that good with your mace."

"And who said my mace was my main weapon?"

Mercury nodded. "At least your dad cared. Mine's still worse."

"Really? What did he do?"

"I'd rather not talk about that."

"Let me guess, not exactly on the right side of the law? A thief, maybe?"

"An assassin."

Cardin felt his heart stop, but he forced himself to smile. "Did he work out of Vale, or somewhere else?"

"Mistral, but he'd fly out once in a while." He stared out the window. "Those were the good times. He'd be gone for weeks, and I'd hunt and eat my own food."

"You told me your secret. Only fair I tell you one of mine?"

Mercury turned around. "Oh? Let's hear it."

"Do you know how I got this implant?" Cardin asked, tapping his nose.

He got a queasy look on his face. "Yang, right? I heard a rumor about it."

Cardin smiled. "My doing. Yang did break my nose, but that was after I got the implant." He leaned back and felt at the implant, running his finger over the thin sheet of skin over it. "When I was six, my father had me attend primary school over at Patch. It's a smaller school, well-funded, and far away from the intrigues of Vale's private school. So, there was a Faunus in the classroom. I told my father about it one night, and he told me to make that boy's life a living hell. I asked why I should, when they weren't doing anything to me."

Mercury's face twisted. "Ouch. He hit you for that?"

"With his goblet of wine. He hadn't even finished it. Took weeks to get the stains out of the carpet."

"So, what, he broke your nose because he wanted you to be a good little racist?"

"Not exactly. I'm willing to bet most nobles aren't really racist. It's a convenient tool to appeal the public. With White Fang sentiment as it is, all it takes is an accusation of being pro-Faunus to alienate you from all the Commons politicians. But that's not the point. He broke my nose to make me hate him, to make it so other Dukes would be tempted to use me to undermine or even eliminate the Duchy of Winchester."

"So, it was a trap."

"Exactly. He caught a Cirilian spy among the servants that way. He tried to coax me into slipping a poison into his wine. I was supposed to get caught, and the Cirilians would use that to have me discredited at the time of their choosing."

Mercury rubbed at his temples. "I'm getting a headache just listening to this. Is it like this for you all the time?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Ouch." After a pause, Mercury smiled and said, "My dad's still worse."

"Congratulations. What's your going rate?"

Mercury blinked. "My what?"

"You know, your fees, price, the quantity of lien it takes to introduce someone I don't like to the pointy end of your preferred method of murder."

"I never really thought about that."

Cardin hesitated before asking, "Well, how much is Cinder paying you?"

"You know, I have no idea."

"She didn't tell you?"

"She came over to my dad's place looking for him."

"She took you instead?"

Mercury looked away. "My dad had retired. She settled for me." With a shrug, he said, "I went along for kicks, mostly."

Cardin raised an eyebrow. "Is retirement your euphemism for a job well done?"

"What makes you think I killed him?"

"First off, you connected the dots pretty fast." Cardin smiled as Mercury swore under his breath. "And second, do you really expect me to believe that, after all you've been through, you wouldn't kill him the first chance you got? Not to mention, there's no way Cinder would take a half-trained assassin if there's a professional killer under the same roof."

Mercury shifted his feet. He tapped on his kneecap, lost in thought, until he said, "Even now, I'm not really sure why I did it. I hated him, don't get me wrong, but that day was one of the better ones. I only got a few bruises during the sparring, and he called it off early to check on his mail. He started drinking, and after his first bottle, I thought it would be a perfect time to kill him. So, I did."

"How did you do it?"

"I tried to slit his throat, but he was ready for it. Blocked it with his Aura, but I kept sawing away at him. It turned into a brawl, and a stray Dust shot hit his booze cabinet. The whole house went up in flames. I kicked some burning alcohol into his eyes, and while he was blinded, I kicked his face in."

Cardin listened and nodded at all the right times. Once the story was done, Mercury watched him, hands on his legs, stroking a spot on his thighs.

"I just told you how I killed my own dad, and you haven't twitched a muscle."

There was tension in Cardin's chest, but he had kept it from his face. "I might have to do the same some day. Not myself, not when I'd get implicated. I'd have to hire an assassin for the job."

"How well do you pay?"

"Better than Cinder."

Mercury chuckled. "Tell you what? When that day comes, I'll offer you a discount."

"What's a discount on a price tag of zero?"

"Yeah, I need to have a word with Cinder about that."

The Bullhead touched down near the CCT. A short walk and a quick conversation with the receptionist later, they had a private room. Cardin sat down in the chair and typed in the number he had copied yesterday, while Mercury leaned against the wall on the right. Cardin waved him further aside so he would be out of the camera's sight.

The receptionist gave a start when she saw his face. "I'm sorry, but this is a private extension. Might I ask how you got this number?"

"I was with Weiss during her call yesterday and took the liberty of copying this number. I would appreciate it if you could tell Mr. Schnee that the Winchester ducal heir is on the line and has an offer regarding his daughter that he may wish to consider.

Her eyes widened a touch, and she bowed her head. "Yes sir. I will convey your message at once. Please hold."

The screen went dark while the receptionist transferred to another line. After half a minute, the receptionist came back on and transferred him to Jacques. The man's expression was wary and guarded, tense around the eyes and chin, leaning forward expectantly.

"I am not pleased to hear that you had overheard yesterday's call."

"Weiss asked me to be there."

"And I take it you were responsible for planting ideas of blackmail in her head?"

"I encouraged her to reconcile with you. Had I done nothing, she would either have tried to get a job in Vale, or she would have tightened her wallet. Either way, you wouldn't have gotten what you wanted."

"True." He stroked his mustache. His light-blue eyes took in every twitch of Cardin's face, searching for clues of his intent. Cardin kept himself relaxed, neutral, perfectly calm, waiting for Mr. Schnee to break the silence.

"You said you have a proposal regarding Weiss?"

"I do. Klein is her favorite servant, correct?"

"Yes." Jacques' expression darkened. "The man is good at what he does, but far too often he goes behind my back to satisfy Weiss' whims."

"I recommend sending him over."

One of Jacques' white eyebrows rose. "Oh? And how can I trust any report I receive from him?"

"You don't have to. I can also give you reports. That way, if Klein tries to deceive you, you'll know the truth."

"But then, I would be relying on your report, wouldn't I? How would I know you can be trusted?"

Cardin shrugged. "I'm in no position to double-cross you. You're aware of my family's unfortunate situation, correct." Jacques nodded. "Servants are allowed to visit Beacon, but they can't remain on the premises after hours. They also aren't allowed to attend Beacon's classes or go on field trips. As an added bonus, I can keep Weiss from committing any political faux-pas, and I can give her advice on how to handle meetings with Dukes."

"A tempting offer. What do you want in return?"

Cardin let himself smile. "I'm hoping to win the Vytal Festival. To that end, I've been gathering as much information as possible on the other teams. School records give me plenty of information to work with, but there's still more I'd like to know. Specifically, what kind of Dust they're planning to use."

"You want access to SDC's business records? That's illegal, you know."

"You and I both know there's loopholes around that."

Mr. Schnee studied the papers on his desk while he mulled over Cardin's request. "I suppose there are. Is that all you require?"

Cardin glanced at Mercury. Judging by the sudden glint in Jacques' eyes, he didn't miss the signal. Trying to solicit further help from Jacques held its risks, but months had gone by, and he was no closer to understanding Cinder's motives. With his stomach tying itself in knots, Cardin held up his left hand, out of sight of Mercury's eyes. While the conversation went on, he gave Russell's number in binary, bending his four fingers in different ways to express each number, repeating it three times to ensure he got the signal.

"I would also appreciate access to high-quality Dust. Even with General Ironwood's efforts, the rarer kinds of Dust are scarce in Vale's stores."

"Which would you like?"

"Gravity Dust."

"Ironwood should have some to spare. I'll have a word with him."

Cardin hadn't even thought of the General. Considering Cinder's meteoric rise to power, he had likely done his own research into her past as well. Perhaps through him, he could even see if Ozpin knew anything. But if he approached Ironwood directly, Cinder would know, and he can't imagine Cinder being pleased by that.

"Send the General my regards," he said. "Now, supposing I do go up against Weiss in the tournament, do you have any problem with me winning against her?"

"To the contrary, Mr. Winchester, I would appreciate it if she lost. While a victory would be good for family prestige, it would hardly do for her to get scooped up by Ozpin." His expression grew haggard and cold. "I've lost enough daughters to that kind of life."

"I will do what I can to make sure she remains the Heiress. I'll give my first report this time next week. If you could send the Dust records to my personal Scroll at your earliest convenience, I would appreciate it."

Cardin wrote the first two numbers of Russell's number before crossing them out with a single line, and below it, wrote his full number. He held it up for Jacques to copy both his numbers and the two crossed-out digits. For all of Weiss' naivete, it appeared that Jacques had a far better understanding of subterfuge and deception.

"Now that we have business out of the way, why not a bit of small talk. What are your plans for the day?"

"A shareholder's meeting, and dinner with one of my major backers. A rather dull day, if I may say so. And you?"

"Busy. I'll be training until late in the evening, and I'll have to go to bed at around ten for some early morning exercises."

Jacques nodded and wrote down the time he mentioned. "As interesting as this call has been, I'm afraid I am out of time. I'll have those reports sent to you just before bed."

Anticipation bubbled up in Cardin's chest. It was a slim hope, but Jacques resources and his isolation from Valean politics might be the break he needed. "I look forward to seeing them."

When the call ended, Cardin turned to Mercury. "You got all that?"

Mercury held up his Scroll, which was still recording. "How'd you know?"

"It's what I would've done."

Mercury put the Scroll away and held open the door. "Why did you ask for the records of student purchases?"

"If Ozpin wanted to hide something, that's the perfect way to do it. Because Beacon is funded through taxpayer lien, every expense normally goes through the Defense Committee. Any unusual purchases would catch the eye of any Duke watching him, and trust me, they all are. The student requisitions, on the other hand, were a direct capital expense paid through the Commerce Committee for the Vytal Festival, and that transaction is one lump sum, not itemized by each team. That would only tell you how much of each Dust type is bought, not which team is using it. Because of that, only the SDC knows the full details of each individual order, as they're the ones preparing the packages for each team."

"You lost me at taxes."

During lunch, Cinder handed him a slip of paper. It had the words 'almond' and 'rugged terrain' written on it. Sifting through his notes on other teams, Cardin found Team ALMD, the lowest seed from Vacuo. He shared this news with his teammates.

"So, Cinder's rigging the game for us?" Russell said. "Sweet!"

"How is she even doing that?" Dove asked. "Isn't the process randomized?"

"Not exactly. It's scripted to pick teams on a probability established by what seed they are. If someone were to tweak the values, and say, ascribe Team CRDL a zero, they would be guaranteed to fight the lowest seed." Sky shrugged. "Or something like that. I don't know how it works. Heck, how does she even have control over the stadium?"

"Keep this to yourselves. If we get accused of cheating, Cinder's going to have us take the fall."

Russell grimaced. "So that's why she's helping us. Let me guess, she's getting easy matches too?"

"I don't know. Just keep quiet and stay sharp. There's no telling what she might do next."

He felt himself tingle with nervous energy as the day wore on, as the clock ticked closer and closer to ten PM. It took all his willpower to appear calm and serene, to look at Cinder without any suspicious tells, no downcast eyes or lengthy stares, no twitching or sudden tilts of his head. She watched him more closely than usual, but her behavior indicated that she had gleaned nothing more from Mercury's recording.

A little before ten, he switched his and Russell's Scrolls and told his teammates he was going for a jog before bed. The gym on the bottom floor was empty, so Cardin took a treadmill and had it set on the lowest speed that would make it look as though he were jogging. For good measure, he turned off the Scroll's speaker setting, forcing him to place the device close to his mouth when he spoke into it.

The moment the hour struck, Russell's Scroll rang. Cardin cheered internally as he picked it up.

"You were being watched during that call." Jacques tone was grave, but relaxed.

"Yes, by someone whose interests might clash with yours. Someone who has amassed a lot of power in Vale in a short amount of time."

"Cinder." The answer was immediate and bitter. "I was ill-pleased to learn she had a hand in spreading out Atlas military all over Vale. I had them brought there to protect my investment, only to find them babysitting some rural settlements."

"There is something she wants that Ozpin has," he said, glancing out the door. He was alone. "And I don't think it's wise to let her have it."

"You need me to help you figure out what that something is." There was a long pause, broken by the opening of drawers and shuffling of papers. "Yes, I might be able to do that. General Ironwood has put in some unusual orders over the past couple years and had them shipped to Beacon. From what my sources tell me, it is a means of transferring Aura from one person to another."

Cardin nearly dropped the Scroll. He felt his chest go numb, his legs plodded forward on the treadmill of their own accord, and his jaw hung slack as the implications of such a device sunk in. He groped for the off button and shut off the treadmill before he stumbled.

"Why is Ironwood building it in Beacon?"

"That's a good question, and I'm afraid I don't have that answer. If it helps your investigation any, some of the items in question were quite large, most notably two human-sized glass chambers purchased last year. Such a thing won't be easy to hide."

Cardin racked his brain, but he hadn't seen such a thing in Beacon. He'd have to check with some of the Committees, but it could've been hidden in any number of them – trade, defense, science, foreign relations. No doubt the components were split between all of them, making the whole contraption all but impossible to find in Vale's paperwork.

"Why are you telling me all of this?"

"Because you're desperate. Your life is balanced on the edge of a knife, and Cinder holds the blade. I can trust you to do everything in your power to stay alive, and if I can improve your chances, you'll do anything I ask."

"What do you want?" Cardin's voice came out as a hoarse whisper, but it carried through the CCT signal.

"Keep my daughter safe. Keep her as far away from the Dukes as possible, and keep her away from Cinder. If possible, convince her to come home."

Cardin chuckled weakly. "I don't think I can. She wants nothing to do with Atlas."

Jacques sighed. "Yes, she has always found it stifling here. She wants to inherit the company one day, but she doesn't want to put up with any of the responsibilities that come with it. I hardly know what to do with her."

"I'll talk to her. Once I know what she wants, I can steer her down the right path."

"I'm glad to hear it. So, as for future correspondences, we need to work out a more efficient means than a phone call while you're jogging."

Cardin grinned sheepishly at the words. "The gym's the only place I can be sure I'm not overheard."

"Yes, but I can hear the treadmill in the background. I'm sure I can work something out with Ironwood, say, have him invite you over for some chess."

"Where he can pass on that Gravity Dust."

"That too."

"Are you sure we should use him as an intermediary? I can't imagine he'll be happy if he finds out we're looking into his pet project."

Jacques chuckled. "James has many talents, but subterfuge isn't one of them. He has dozens of such projects, and I have fingers in them all. Some of what he does is absolutely fascinating – take for instance, the machine with an Aura. It's being field tested as we speak."

"A machine with Aura? Did they transfer a person's Aura into it?"

"A good theory, but this project was built in Atlas. Unless they had a second transfer machine here, I don't see how it was possible. No, the lead scientist claims to have made a soul from scratch, though how it was done is known only to the doctor himself. Even James doesn't know all of how it works."

"But that's not what Cinder would want with it, now is it?"

"No, it's not. My best guess is, she would want to use it to steal someone's Aura. Their Semblance would likely come with it."

"Making her more powerful in the process."

"The wrong Semblance in the hands of someone with that much influence might spell the end of our nations." Jacques cleared his throat and said, "You've given me far more to think about than I would've liked. I had expected Cinder to firmly establish herself in Vale, but if her current goal involves such a machine, it speaks of far broader designs."

"What will you tell Ironwood?"

It took Jacques half a minute to find his answer. "It would be too risky telling him anything. I'll give him the usual politics lingo that flies right over his head."

"What about Ozpin? I might be able to give him a message through the General."

"Hmm. Contacting Ozpin might be wise. I'll handle that once we get more information. I don't wish to run the risk that you may be compromised."

Cardin's jaw tightened. "If I am, I'm probably dead."

"Then see to it you're not. Good night."

The line cut out, leaving Cardin holding the inert Scroll. As he turned it off, he caught sight of a little black symbol on the upper right corner of the screen, but when he powered the Scroll back on, it was gone.