On The Imperium’s Secret Service (Imperium Cicernus) (45 page)

“All work and no play makes a planetary governor a dull boy,” Fitz told her. “At least, that’s probably how they justify it.  But then, most planetary governors are dull boys anyway.  That’s not the point.  The point is that we may have less time than we thought.”

Mariko put it together in her mind.  “If the governors get murdered on the same day the wormhole networks go down...”

“The sector will be effectively leaderless,” Fitz confirmed.  “Maybe that won’t be as bad as they think – two of those governors are men who were sent out here in the hopes they wouldn't be able to harm anyone
important
– but it will still be disastrous as the sector starts struggling with the effects of being cut off from the Imperium.  A long argument over who is actually in charge won’t help the population when the Snakes invade.”

He shook his head as he started to undress.  “I got a timetable from one of the butlers,” he added.  “Tonight, there’s going to be a masked ball to welcome everyone to Tuff; tomorrow, the hunt for the dreaded Hex begins.  We have to move tonight.”

Mariko nodded.  “What are we going to do?”

“Snatch Lady Mary, get her back to the ship and into an interrogation chamber,” Fitz said.  “Find out what she knows in the hopes that it will lead us to the Secessionist leadership.  And then try and stop them before their plan reaches fruition.”  He shrugged.  “Any questions?”

“Yes,” Mai said.  “What will I be doing while you two go after Lady Mary?”

“I want you ready to head for the shuttle the moment we send the signal,” Fitz said.  “You should get there first, so power up the engines and wait for us.  As soon as we are aboard, take us out of here...”

“And remember that you can’t count on the data from OTC,” Mariko put in.  “Keep one eye on your own sensors at all times.”

Mai shot her a cross glance. 

“Now leave me to have my bath, and then wash and dress yourselves,” Fitz ordered.  “And make sure you bring your tools with you in your dresses.”

***

“I feel silly,” Mariko confessed
.  She wore a golden mask and feathered headdress that did a good job of hiding her identity, and a golden dress that clung to her body in all the right places.  “And we look like twins.”

Fitz gave a low whistle as he studied them.  “You look like women pretending to have more status than they actually do, which isn't a bad thing in a masked ball.  No one ever looks past the obvious; instead, they spend time congratulating themselves for having spotted the obvious.  Idiots.”

He shook his head.  “How do I look?”

Fitz wore a black and gray uniform with a bat-symbol on his chest, surrounded by a black cloak he rustled around him for dramatic effect.  His mask only concealed his eyes and hair, little else.  Anyone who knew him would have been able to see through the disguise easily.  But that, he’d explained, was part of the point.  Anyone who considered themselves important would not want to go unrecognised, even at a masked ball. 

“Dark,” Mai said.  “Who, exactly, do you think you are?”

“He was a character from the past, banned now,” Fitz said, as he struck a dramatic pose.  “I think the idea of someone standing up for truth and justice didn't go down well with the censors, for some strange reason.  You probably won’t have heard of him; few outside the collecting world have heard of any of those characters.”

“This one was human, at least,” he said with a grin..  “Can you believe that they used to portray aliens as being superior to humans, having powers beyond human comprehension?  I’m not surprised that they were banned.  Who wants to suggest the idea of superior aliens to the Imperium?”

“Right,” Mariko said.  “Where do we go now?”

Fitz made a show of checking his watch.  “We go to the masked ball for an hour, long enough to make sure that everyone remembers us, and then we take our leave,” he said.  “Apparently, Lady Mary will
not
be attending the ball.  The butler told me that she has last-minute scheduling issues to deal with.”

“That’s worrying,” Mariko pointed out.

“We could hardly have snatched her in front of the great and good of the Imperium,” Fitz said.  He looked worried, his tone belaying his words.  “Never look a gift horse in the mouth, my father always said.”

Mariko’s father had said the exact opposite, she recalled as they walked down the stairs and entered the ballroom, but she kept her thoughts to herself.  Normally, the aristocracy would try to outdo one another in being fashionably late, yet that didn't seem to apply for a masked ball.  Hundreds of couples were already on the dance floor, dancing to a tune that seemed oddly familiar.  Their dancing was more enthusiastic than skilled, part of her mind noted, before she realised that most of them wouldn't have danced in costumes.  Several women had even come completely veiled, covering their entire bodies in shapeless black garments.  Mariko couldn't resist the thought that they all looked absurd. 

Fitz grabbed her wrists and pulled her onto the dance floor, leaving Mai standing on her own beside the wall.  Mariko felt a brief twinge of guilt before a masked man appeared beside her sister and invited her to dance.  She kept one wary eye on Mai as they spun around the floor, but found it hard to take her eyes from Fitz.  Silly costume or not, he managed to dance better than the rest of the aristocrats.

“Long practice in this costume,” he muttered, as they reached the side of the room.  Nude waitresses, wearing masks that concealed their faces even as they exposed everything else, walked past, holding trays of drink.  Mariko started to reach for one before Fitz shook his head.  “You need a clear head tonight.”

The night wore on as the ballroom grew more and more crowded.  A woman started shouting at her dance partner after he accidentally tore off her mask ahead of time.  Several waitresses managed to separate the couple and lead them to different parts of the room.  A fight threatened to break out between a group of masked men in gaudy costumes, although Mariko couldn't see what – if anything – they were fighting over.  By the time Fitz caught her arm and pulled her away from the ballroom, it was almost a relief. 

The tiny rooms for couples were as drab as she remembered.  She took off the mask with a sigh of relief and put it on the bed.  A moment later, the outer part of the dress joined it.

“Lock the door as we leave,” Fitz ordered.  “And then follow me.”

Outside the ballroom, the mansion’s corridors were almost completely empty.  The public corridors, at least; Fitz had explained that Lady Mary’s massive building had private corridors to keep the servants away from her guests, as well as concealing part of the building’s infrastructure.  Underground, who knew how far it might have expanded?  Tuff wasn't a tectonically stable world, but given advanced technology and enough money it could have been safeguarded against almost anything.

“Walk naturally,” Fitz hissed at her, as they walked up a flight of stairs.  Lady Mary had the entire sixth floor to herself.  Suspiciously, there was only one public link between the rest of the mansion and her quarters.  It would certainly be guarded.  “Remember, you’re not a thief; you’re just lost and searching for your way back to your quarters.”

He stopped outside a painting of a scowling aristocrat from decades ago and waved his sonic screwdriver over it.  “Gotcha,” he said, as he started to prod away at the latch.  A moment later, the painting yawned open, revealing another corridor running parallel to the first.  “Come on...and stay quiet.  We’re not meant to know about this place.”

Mariko grinned as she followed him into the secret passageway, closing the painting behind her.  “How did you know it was here?”

“The painting was out of place,” Fitz whispered, as he started to slip down the darkened corridor.  “My grandmother – on my father’s side – was an avid art collector; her collection was big enough to require a larger building than this place to store it.  She insisted on my learning everything I could about art, lecturing me every time I came to visit...”

He shook his head.  “She wasn't a bad person, but she could be boring at times.”

Mariko could understand that, all right. 

“And when she passed away, she left me many of her paintings.  I never realised that she painted, too, until I saw them after her death – and how many people had feted the artist, never realising who she was.”

Mariko blinked.  “She hid her identity?”

“If you’re born to the aristocracy, you’re surrounded from an early age by people telling you what they think you want to hear,” Fitz muttered, as they reached a stairwell leading upwards and started to walk up towards the sixth floor.  “They would have told her that she was the reincarnation of every great artist in the past if they’d known who she was, even if she lacked talent.  She was smart enough to work under an assumed name.”

“Like you,” Mariko said.  “Or is your real name your cover?”

Fitz shook his head. 

“If I succeed or fail, no one will ever know my name, at least not as a secret agent,” he said.  He didn't sound entirely pleased about it, but he’d clearly accepted the need for it a long time ago.  “I’m not in this business for fame.”

He snorted as they reached the top of the stairs.  “This should get us in without being noticed.  If not, get ready to stun everyone you can and start hunting for her.”  A crack of light appeared as he pushed open the hatch leading back into the public part of the building and stepped out, stunner in hand. 

There was no one there to greet them, but the atmosphere struck her at once as being very different.  The air was cool, and there was an unmistakable sense of
purpose
in the corridor.  No paintings decorated the walls; no fine carpeting covered the floors.  In the distance, she heard what sounded like a woman talking.  She didn't sound happy.

Fitz tapped his lips and slipped off down the corridor, pressing his feet against the walls.  Mariko followed him, pulling her stunner from her belt and bracing herself to use it.  Stunners weren't designed to kill, which was one reason why they were fairly common in the Imperium despite gun control laws, but hitting a person in poor health could push him over the brink.  She would rather have carried a real pistol.  Fitz stopped outside an opened door and peered through it.  Mariko followed him a moment later.  Someone was sitting in a chair with their back to the door, talking into a microphone.

“Things are getting too damn complex,” the woman said.  Oddly, she didn't sound like Lady Mary.  “Our source on Homeworld says
what
?”

Mariko couldn't hear the response, but she did hear the muffled curse from the woman. 

“Get the fleet ready; we have to move now, or we risk losing everything.  Whoever killed Snider put a spanner in the works, all right.”

There was another unintelligible response. 

“Well, find out,” she said.  “Someone learned enough to guess the truth...what will they do once it actually sinks in, through the disbelief and shock and complacency that makes up the Grand Senate?”

“Hey,” another voice bellowed.  “Who are you?”

Mariko turned, to see a man wearing a blank uniform running towards them, drawing his weapon.  Fitz stunned him before he could finish drawing it, leaving his body slumping to the ground, before running into the room to confront the woman. 

Lady Mary – it
was
Lady Mary – spun around to stare at him.  He stunned her...and then she seemed to shrug off the stun blast. 

Damn it, she's augmented, too!
Mariko thought.

Lady Mary struck Fitz right in the nose with augmented strength, sending him flying backwards, directly into the wall.  The force of his impact seemed to echo through the entire room.

Mariko lifted her stunner and shot Lady Mary, time and time again, but there was no effect.  Even the mildest levels of augmentation could easily counter a stun blast. 

Strong hands grabbed her from behind, tore the stunner out of her hands and pushed her to the floor.  Mariko struggled, but her attacker was either augmented or naturally stronger than she was.  Resistance was futile.