“That’s because he isn’t aware of it. I saw to that.”
Brigid shook her head in exasperation. “I don’t understand. His father did something to your father, and you don’t want him to know, yet you still hate him for it?”
“I didn’t say it was completely rational.”
“The only resemblance to rationality is that you’re not babbling incoherently.”
“Cute. Well, if I am irrational, I am also a man of pride, and I must exact what all men of pride must exact in order to live with themselves.”
“Like what?”
“Vindication. Revenge for the wrongs compounded upon my family name, my family honor.” Salvo’s face twisted into a contemptuous smile. “But none of this has any bearing on you and your situation, does it?”
“It might make for interesting testimony at my trial.”
Salvo chuckled, a sound like the distant rustling of leathery wings. “Your testimony won’t be worth shit, Baptiste. That’s the beauty of the baron’s court.”
He turned and rapped sharply on the door with a fist. “I don’t mind admitting I’m reinterpreting my standing orders a trifle. I was instructed to obtain as much possible information from you before your execution, but I’d rather not waste my time on torture. You’re only a pawn. Whatever you know will die with you.”
The door opened. “Your trial is scheduled for 0800. Sentence will be carried out at 0830.” Salvo stepped out, and the door banged shut behind him with a ringing finality.
Brigid closed her eyes, struggling to contain the panic swelling within her. She knew the spy-eye was active again, and she refused to allow the terror to consume her, and so provide entertainment for the Mag monitors.
Regulating her breathing, Brigid managed to reduce the trembling of her hands, then she lowered herself to the floor and assumed the cross-legged lotus position. She smiled at the spy-eye lens and said, “Fuck you. Go watch the Mag shower room for a while.”
Chapter Nineteen
If he hadn’t received the call from Salvo, Grant wouldn’t have caught the communication from Kane.
After giving his statement to Pollard, Grant had been directed to go home and not contact his friend until the matter had been thoroughly looked into. Since Salvo was strangely unavailable, he had figured that a deeper investigation of the incident would have to wait until the following day.
Grant hated waiting. Under other circumstances, a Pit sweep would have been under way, with Kane taking the point as always. The murder of a Mag and the attempted murder of another with an autoblaster were grounds for a full-scale assault on the slaggers’ dens of Tartarus, turning over every rock in search of Teague, Uno and the albino girl. Last year’s failed ambush by poorly armed jolt-walkers had resulted in a month-long Pit lockdown.
It was very odd, but unlike Kane, Grant wasn’t inclined to ask questions. Instead, he stood gazing out the window into the deep indigo sky, looking for a sign that a new day was dawning.
A Magistrate is virtuous in the performance of his duty . The deeply ingrained phrase drifted through his mind. The duties and obligations that came with his badge and blaster had been drilled into him these past twenty-plus years. The oath was a part of his every action and reactionat once a justification and a reason to live, a psychological shield and a sword for the work he performed.
Living only for duty and service was all a matter of how you adjusted to it, Grant thought fleetingly. He had assumed that both he and Kane had adjusted perfectly, but now Kane was displaying signs of strain, of chafing under the strictures. He asked questions, which in itself was irritating enough, but his questions were good ones, which was downright unfortunate.
It was awkward business, being friends with a fellow Mag. Sometimes even Grant was surprised that two such contrasting personalities worked so well as a team. Teamwork was encouraged, but friendship was frowned upon.
Now Grant knew why. It was a hard thing to endure not to be on hand to help Kane deal with whatever he was battling. He tried to tell himself that Kane had brought it all upon himselffrom not serving the termination warrant on Reeth, to lifting the comp disk and conducting his own independent investigation, then calling for backup only after Boon had been chilled.