Chapter Nine
Why Aren’t We Drugging People All The Time?
It shouldn’t have looked like a movie theater, but it did.
Jenna had Vash line up three couches in her living room and arranged a projector. It looked like a movie theater. Well, as much as it could… in outer space. The reason for the impromptu movie theater was that they didn’t have an interrogation room, so they did the next best thing. They arranged for Sardius to meet Rennett and Scion at separate times and in separate locations. They filmed it and showed it in real-time to the viewers in Jenna’s living room by projecting it against the wall. Afterward, they’d take a vote.
“Are you still mad at me, Jenna?” Fallcet asked, taking a seat next to her.
“I would never want you to think that I wasn’t mad at you,” she replied smoothly.
“Isn’t there anything I can do to ease your mind?” he asked, pouring on the charm like he had gallons of it behind his eyes.
“What did you say? I think I’ve still got water in my ear,” Jenna said snottily and pretended to try to get the water he had poured on her when she was in the tank out of her ear. “I was wrong. It’s gone. There’s just the memory of it. I wonder when that will fade?”
“So you’re never going to forgive me?” he said quietly, so the other diplomats couldn’t hear. “I did the self-sacrificing thing. I became a diplomat to the Octavians when that was the last thing I wanted to do.”
Jenna blew him off. “Let’s not talk about it now. Ryatt is about to start his interviews.”
“I don’t think you should have Ryatt talk to either of these guys,” Fallcet said doubtfully. “He’s only a bodyguard.”
“Let’s just watch,” she said, wishing she still ate popcorn.
Vash dimmed the lights and the Sardius on the screen got started. He met Rennett first. They sat at the bar in the Sand Palace. Sardius poured drinks and talked to him like he was a bartender instead of an interrogator.
“Who are you again?” Rennett asked dully. He seemed very tired from his previous interview with Celestina, who grilled him like he was a steak.
“I’m Jenna Fairchild’s bodyguard. I’m just keeping you company tonight while the council is deliberating about you,” he said in a soothing neutral tone.
“Oh… what do you think they’ll decide?” the old general asked mournfully. “I hear Jenna is pretty hard to please.”
“I think your chances are good since they already sent the lawyer home.” Sardius flipped a glass and poured something green into it.
Rennett saw it and shook his head. “I don’t want that. I’ve had enough to drink.” He still had a little left in the glass in front of him.
“It’s not for you,” Sardius said with a disarming smile. “It’s for me.” He clinked glasses with Rennett and leaned away from the bar, giving him plenty of space.
A moment or two passed before Rennett, not wanting Sardius to get bored and leave, started talking. “So, you work for the little woman? Do you like it?”
“A job’s a job,” he answered noncommittally.
“I’d like to work for her,” Rennett said vaguely.
“Why’s that?”
“Because she’s got no sense.”
“Hasn’t she?”
“She’s hard to guard, isn’t she?” the general asked. “I bet she’s incredibly hard to keep safe. She just does whatever she wants and you have to run after her, but it would never be boring. Tell you what, boy. I have spent my whole career chasing after corpses. I’d like to spend the rest of my career chasing after her with that slit up her dress. Her leg is a lot better looking than a war… which is what I’ve done until now.”
Sardius didn’t seem the least bit bothered by Rennett’s mention of Jenna’s leg. “You have that right. She’s a vision of loveliness after a burn unit or a row of body bags.”
Rennett sighed. “Maybe I don’t know anything about women anymore. I only know what you see when you’re raiding… or on leave. Brothels should be better than the front, but I don’t think they are.”
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“They’re not,” Sardius said smoothly. “Jenna can’t be the best woman you’ve ever known. Want to tell me about the best one?”
Rennett did. He talked for twenty minutes about a woman he knew in the two years he had a desk job on Tidus. It turned out that Rennett was a sad drunk and the next drink Sardius gave him was laced with a sedative. Sardius got him to his room with his shoes off before it took full effect.
When he was finished putting the old general to sleep he returned to the Dahlia Palace to give his thoughts to the assembled diplomats.
“What did you think?” Excelyn asked, a crook in her old eyebrow.
“They’re going to kill him,” Sardius explained. “If Jenna crowns him, the AAMC is going to kill him and blame us. It’s a simple plan to discredit us and stall the program. I advised Jenna to get rid of Voguen, the lawyer, because I thought he’d poison your thinking with his rhetoric, but Rennett is a straight-up mess. The AAMC has used him as much as they can and now they’re done with him. If we crown him, he’ll be dead the night before you’re set to crown the last diplomat. If they can’t pin it on us, at the very least, it will stall us and that may be all they want.”
Fallcet’s jaw dropped and he was clearly so appalled that he couldn’t utter a word.
“You think the AAMC has a different plan for each of their offered candidates?” Philip asked, getting involved.
“Definitely,” Sardius replied.
“What’s the plan for Scion, do you think?” Jenna asked, her lips tight.
“As the child of an arms dealer, he’s probably been taught that conflict is best solved with violence. Whoever has the biggest guns wins. When I speak to him, I’ll only be trying to uncover how permanent that way of thinking is. I’ve already devised a way to draw him out of his room and get him to talk to me. I’ll go now if you want. Change the camera to the one covering the courtyard of the Sand Palace.” He turned to leave.
“Wait,” Jenna called. “From what you know right now, which of them would you crown?”
“Both of them.”
“Both?” Jenna exclaimed, with other shocked sounds coming from the other diplomats.
“Yeah. You don’t need to be a whiner about it. The AAMC is not going to be satisfied until they get their three members crowned. As I said before, they are trying to stall us, make it take as long as they can, or get a majority… whatever they can accomplish. If you crown Scion, you’re really going to make them feel like they’re getting what they want. If you crown Rennett, you’re going to need a backup diplomat, but the nice side of that is that after he’s dead, you can crown whoever you want in his place. As I said, they’ll kill him before you can achieve quorum. You could crown Rennett’s backup on the same day as the last diplomat if you could get your fish in a row.”
“You’re talking about him like he’s already dead,” Celestina noticed uncomfortably, getting her sensitive back up.
“Sorry. I don’t know if the camera was picking it up, but he was sweating a lot just lifting his glass to his mouth. If I were betting, I’d bet that he’s likely to have a heart attack. He’s probably had heart problems in the past. Who wants to bet against me that he doesn’t have a pacemaker already?”
No one moved.
“I think he has one,” Sardius continued. “The AAMC can just short it out when they want him dead, and then say we overtaxed a sick person.”
“What about Scion?”
“As I said, I’d take him just to give the AAMC what they want. He’s just one vote and won’t have that much power. You ladies can set him adrift if you don’t like his palace attached to yours.”
“Did you just include me with the ladies?” Fallcet asked defensively.
“Yup. They outnumber you and they’ve been doing this longer. I’m going to go talk to Scion. If you want to come, Fallcet, I could use a punching bag.” Sardius threw the words over his shoulder as he headed toward the front door.
“What does that mean?” Fallcet asked Jenna.
“He probably meant it quite literally. If you feel like sparring with him, follow him,” Jenna said stiffly. Half of her hoped Fallcet wasn’t stupid enough to follow Sardius, but the other half of her wanted Sardius to have all the help he needed, so she hoped he’d go.
“I can’t do that. I’m a diplomat,” Fallcet huffed. “What good can I do with a black eye and a fat lip?”
It was on the tip of Jenna’s tongue to say, ‘You’re boring either way’, but she held it back. “I’ll go if he needs something to hit,” Jenna said, running after him.
“Jenna, wait!” Fallcet said, becoming the third person in a chase. “You can’t be his punching bag!”
Jenna stopped and gave Fallcet a patient look. “Ryatt is not just my bodyguard. He’s also my personal trainer. I work out with him all the time. It’ll be fine.” She patted him on the shoulder and ran after Sardius, leaving Fallcet behind.
She caught up with Sardius before he got to the bridge that led to the Sand Palace. “Wait,” she called.
He turned around immediately at her call. “What are you doing here? Go back to the others. You’re supposed to be deliberating.”
“I know, but you said you needed someone to spar with?” Jenna panted.
“Yeah, I did. Crimp is going to meet me.”
“Crimp?”
He smiled. “She has been begging to do a round with me since she saw me fight on Spikay Two. I’ve held out on her offer for just such an occasion as this. Go back and watch with the others.”
Jenna grimaced.
He leaned in and said in an unmistakable tone, “This isn’t the kind of workout you should have with me.”
She turned a hot pink at the sexual innuendo.
“Go back inside,” he said with a flourish.
Jenna did what she was told, but she had a terrible time turning away from him.
“I thought you told him not to sexually harass you,” Ixy said in her ear. “Aren’t you going to get mad?”
“I take it back. He can harass me all day every day.”
“Atta girl,” Ixy giggled.