Soldier of Fortune

Later, Gideon and Mia stood on one of the river’s more active piers and watched as Ellison, still with his pulse, steamed away on the Amber Queen.

The crew of the riverboat, including Juban, their giant friend from The Old Man and the Sea, weren’t particularly impressed by the fagin but allowed that he could work off his fare to northern Allianza, which was as near to Stolichnaya as the Queen sailed.

Once Ellison was aboard, Gideon took Juban aside and asked which Avonian cities the Queen would be stopping in along the way.

As the boat followed the river’s curve and out of sight, it was Mia who spoke first. “So,” she said, looking up at Gideon, “now what?”

“I think that’ll be up to them,” Gideon said, turning to where a Corps sedan was pulling up at the end of the pier.

Scanning the vehicle, Gideon felt a tug at the corner of his vision when his eyes passed over the silhouettes in the front seat, but then General Satsuke emerged from the back, along with DS Hama, drawing his attention from the featureless shape of the officer riding shotgun.

“I see you found our young friend,” Hama called as he jogged up to the waiting trio, leaving Satsuke speaking to someone inside the car.

“I did,” Gideon said before adding, “Thanks for loaning me the bike. And the torch.”

Hama waved that aside. “Tiago would not have been forgiving were I to have lost his friend,” he explained, offering Mia a formal little bow before turning to Gideon. “Dare I ask what became of the fagin?”

“By all means,” Gideon said, “dare.”

Hama glared, then sighed, then asked, “What happened to the fagin?”

“He just shipped out on the Amber Queen,” Gideon replied.

Hama stared. “Did it not occur to you that by allowing him to escape, you are also allowing him the opportunity to set up a new hive elsewhere?”

“It did,” Gideon agreed, “but as the Amber Queen will be stopping in Guinness in two days, I’m sure the local police will be able to collect him on your behalf.” He watched the detective’s jaw twitch.

“Would it not have been simpler to hold him here, that the Nike police might take him under warrant?” the detective asked.

“Simpler? Sure,” Gideon said, looking out over the dark ribbon of the Avon. “But this way Ellison has two days of hope, two days to plan how he’s going to start over, maybe even contemplate a return to Nike to even the score.” He turned back to Hama. “And after two days of building up his ideal future, the Queen will dock in Guinness, and he’ll find the police waiting and realize that future is never going to happen.”

Gideon watched Hama absorb this, then watched the other man’s lips move in a way that told Gideon he was counting.

“Perhaps,” Hama finally said, “this conversation should also have never happened.” At Gideon’s raised eyebrow, he shrugged. “I don’t want to add to the mountain of paperwork your presence has already generated.” As he spoke, General Satsuke stepped onto the dock. “Speaking of paperwork,” Hama continued, “I don’t see my cycle anywhere, and you’ve no idea what the requisition forms are like should I need a new one.”

“No worries,” Gideon said, tossing the key to the detective. “I parked it between the incoming cotton and outgoing steel. Mia can show you the way.”

“I can?” Mia asked, giving Gideon a look of concern.

“It’ll be okay,” Gideon told her, glancing at the waiting Satsuke. “Elvis can go with you,” he added, and a click and a gesture sent the draco hopping from his shoulder to Mia’s.

As before, the draco’s presence seemed to steady the girl, enough that she was willing to head out with the detective while Gideon joined Satsuke. “If you want your knife back,” he said, referring to the blade she’d tossed him on his way out, “you might want to wait until all the fagin’s been cleaned off.”

“Consider it a spoil of war,” she replied, not missing a beat. Then she simply stood, hands clasped behind her, watching him.

“So,” Gideon said after a suitably tense silence, “now what?”

“That is a loaded question,” Satsuke replied, staring at Gideon long enough for him to wonder if he should have gotten on the Amber Queen with Ellison. “But to begin,” she continued at last, “there is this.” And as she spoke, she pulled from behind her back a lump of fabric which, when Gideon took it, turned out to be his coat.

“You found it,” he said, then cleared his throat.

“One of my officers did,” Satsuke told him. “It was in a chest hidden behind a false wall of her closet, along with a few other—souvenirs—from Odile’s various conquests. A lucky discovery for us,” she continued, “as many of those items are unique enough to be traced to her assets.”

“Assets or victims?” Gideon asked. “Given Celia’s abilities, manipulating emotions the way she did, they didn’t stand much of a chance.”

“They had as much chance as you,” Satsuke pointed out. “And though I take your point, the fact remains that every one of those people has been compromised by a foreign agent. We have to know what they told her.”

Since there wasn’t much Gideon could say to that, he opted to put on his coat, settling it over his shoulders and, for the first time since settling into that tub at the Elysium, felt himself fully relax.

Though if he were really being honest, he hadn’t been truly relaxed for close to seven years, but that was just too depressing to dwell on, especially now that Odile had been uncovered and his name cleared.

Assuming his name had been cleared.

He looked up to see Satsuke watching him, and her expression said she’d not only followed his entire thought process but anticipated it.

“There is also this,” she said, holding out a folded document, several pages thick and bearing the seals of the Corps Special Operations and United Colonial Judicial System.

He looked from the document to the general but didn’t reach out for it.

He was, perhaps, less relaxed than he’d originally thought.

“Trust me,” she said, “you’ll want to take it.”

He wasn’t so sure he trusted her, but he did take it.

Holding his breath, he broke the seals.

It was a long time before he let that breath out.

“It’s a bit late, but I hope you will accept this full acquittal and the accompanying reinstatement of your rank and all honors earned in the service of the United Colonies,” General Satsuke said formally while Gideon continued to stare at the document. “There is also a provision for six years of back pay, to be delivered upon your acceptance of the terms.”

“Terms?” he asked, staring at the repeal of every crime for which he’d been convicted, all laid out in black and white. Then he looked up.

“The unwritten terms,” she said.

“Which are?”

“No one can know the truth about Odile.”