Chapter 20

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The flyer ahead flashed sunlight on the silver plating and swerved sharply to the side, flashing a scarlet griffin on the hollow side. Alex craned his neck, glancing over the pilot's shoulder to see what was going on ahead, but at that moment, the engines of their vehicle shrieked and squealed, straps slamming into his shoulders, a sudden jerk which almost resulted in a tongue bite. The flyer tilted, went up, and to the right. In the long narrow window above the head of Taer sitting opposite, the white rectangle of the roof of the horned cargo platform flashed, which seemed to be the reason for the abrupt maneuver.

"I can only imagine how much the Retainer Service will write off after this trip..." she commented, sending back the loose strand.

Alex was about to say what he thought Retainer service was for, but the flyer shook sharply again, and he prudently covered his mouth for fear of losing his tongue.

In the side windows the silhouettes of blurred vehicles whizzed by, some of them able to react to a trio of flyers suddenly appearing in front of them - and the track was rattled by a thunderous howl of sirens. The pilots, when told that "the only thing you have to worry about is the maximum defense of the lord", go crazy. They ended up flying most of the way in some narrow tunnels, among houses, and on-ground equipment tracks, where it appeared flyers were forbidden to fly. At least there were no other flyers in sight - the other machines flew in a dignified manner about half a meter from the grey-steel surface of the track.

Alex glanced at Itori Lieutenant Vodin, who was driving their flyer. He sat unmoving and unblinking, his eyes wide, staring through the windshield, where the scarlet line of the route was winding, and an absent-minded smile wandered across his lips.

I bet it had nothing to do with safety - these maniacs just wanted to drive around town their whole lives, shitting on the rules, Alex thought grudgingly after another jerk caused the fliers to dive into some side tunnel.

Judging by the fact that just a few moments later, a train whizzed underneath at breakneck speed, it was the local underground tunnel.

"Are we sure we won't have too much trouble after this trip?" Alex asked, taking advantage of the fact that the flyers were going through the tunnel without making any sudden maneuvers, so he could speak without fear of biting his tongue.

"No," Taer shook her head. "Diplomatic immunity!" she shouted, trying to break through the howls of the engines that filled the cabin. "As with all high nobles, Copeira is considered neutral territory. The only thing that matters is that there are no casualties."

At this rate, I wonder if there won't be any casualties.

"What happens if we hit someone?"

Taer thought for a moment, raising her eyes to the ceiling:

"A lot of unnecessary noise and unnecessary fuss, but nothing serious," she finally answered. "There might be trouble if we hit a nobleman, but that's unlikely."

How delightful! Alex marveled. The such directness of impunity!

"And what prevents the nobles from racing like this all the time?" he asked aloud.

Taer, who must have had enough of shouting, quickly unbuckled her harness and, in one sliding step, crossed the cabin and sat down next to Alex:

"Clan usually gets in the way," she replied, buckling up. "There's always a lot of noise from races like this, and a young jackass can be pressured by older relatives. For example, by cutting back on the allowance."

"Is it work?"

"I don't know. There are a lot of young people who like to drive, but mostly at night and in deserted areas, so it usually doesn't cause too much trouble for anyone," she added, seeing the disapproving expression on Alex's face. "By the way, you, my lord, used to be a big fan of this kind of entertainment."

"Me?" Alex raised an eyebrow skeptically. "I didn't seem to drive the Flyer myself before the poisoning."

"You used to be a passenger with your close friend Marquise Turang, and she is a big racing fan."

"Good then! Don't worry, I'm sour from lack of sleep," he saw fit to explain. "And I don't really care how anyone has fun."

Taer shrugged and remained silent with a "yeah, and I just said that" look.

On another sharp manoeuvre, the flyer shook. And again. The sky flashed through the narrow window, and the vehicle turned and went upwards, making a steep arc. He felt the weight, like lead, weighing down on his chest and pulling his cheeks up toward his ears. Alex thought he was going dark in his eyes when suddenly it stopped abruptly.

"Can someone explain to me why we're so bent out of shape?" he was relieved that he was no longer squeezed in his chair and could change the uncomfortable subject. "Are there supposed to be compensators, or did they forget to turn them on?"

"This model was originally designed to transport miners and geologists," replied Taer. "They're not the pickiest of people, and they don't do a lot of maneuvering, either. Good compensators are very expensive, so there's a simpler model here - it only works well for one vector, and there's no, or delayed, compensation for the others.

"That's great! I'll have to give the pilots a hint later that I'm excited about them, but I really don't like it when lunch gets to my throat. Is there any way to change the compensator to a more advanced one?"

"It's easier to order a bespoke flyer," the "specialist" sniggered. "The Fyson, for example. But that would take three or four decades, minimum, and we needed the cars right away."

"Got it."

He turned again to the window, where the turquoise waves and the white sandy coastline were glimpsed - they had clearly left the city limits, and, therefore, Marquise Turang's estate was not very far away.

Alex tried to concentrate on his upcoming conversation with Isalaya. The conversation promised to be anything but easy...

So what was it you said about assassins? I could use a couple here.

Even though the motives of the lovely Marquise were clearer to him than, for example, those of Kay... - with women, one could never be entirely sure. He had to decide what to say to his "mistress" and what not to say. And - how to say it. But, as luck would have it, my thoughts were barely moving, my head was throbbing, and my face was slowly starting to burn.

Shit! How long have I been awake?

The last time he slept on the station before Voigrom, they went down to hunt in the afternoon, but it was still morning on the planet. Then there was an assassination attempt and an orbital evacuation, followed by a nine-hour jump to Copeira. As it turned out after landing, it was morning again on Copeira. Now the sun, which left a long golden trail on the surface of the water, was clearly approaching sunset.

I wonder what time it is? Six o'clock?

Alex glanced around the Spartan interior, trying to find anything resembling a clock, but to no avail.

I should get myself a watch or whatever they use here. One can go crazy with these different daily cycles!

He fumbled in his pocket for a jar of Fenote and looked at the light - there was less than half left. The flyer was moving smoothly, so Alex dropped the blue sparkly capsules onto his palm without fear. The capsules were soft and smooth as if made of transparent rubber, and there seemed to be liquid inside. Counting out seven pieces, he popped them into his mouth and chewed them with a thoughtful expression. The pensive expression was instantly replaced by a twisted grimace. His mouth felt like it was bursting with a frozen, wormwood-flavored concoction.

God! It's so disgusting!

"Nasty?" Taer watched Alex's actions with curiosity.

"It's bearable," he replied when the cramp in his cheekbones had finally subsided. "It makes my whole body brighten up, though."

Alex handed the jar to the "specialist", who, judging by her red eyes and staring into the void, could also use a more adequate state of mind.

With this lifestyle, we're both going to be hooked on this thing soon.

Taer, with a silent shrug, took a few capsules and chewed them with the same thoughtful look... with predictable results:

"Great shadows, what an abomination!" she shivered. "Are you sure you have to chew it?"

"No," Alex hummed. "You have to swallow them whole. I was just curious what would happen."

From the look on the "specialist's" face, though she was silent, she clearly thought something obscene about her lord.

"We should get some regular stimulants instead of eating this crap. Maybe it's not good for people who don't have amnesia at all," she finally said.

"Come on, it's perfectly sa..." Alex started to object but was interrupted by the intercom.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"Two minutes to Marquess Turang's estate, my lord," Vodin's quiet voice, thanks to the amplifiers, successfully overrode both the howling engines and the loud conversation. "You asked for a warning. We can give you a couple of tours around the manor if you'd like."

Alex glanced at Taer. After the Fenote, the "specialist" was clearly back to normal, and he felt much better himself:

"Thank you, Rokot, I think we're ready, so you're good to go," Alex almost shouted into the intercom.

The vehicles turned sharply and raced over the narrow canal that connected the coast with the estate without slowing down. The treetops flashed through the side window.

The main thing is that some three-hundred-year-old tree doesn't get torn down again.

A few minutes later, the flyers came to a sudden halt, hovering a palm high off the ground. The side door swung open, flooding the darkened interior with light, and Taer quickly ran a hand through her hair, making sure it wasn't disheveled, undid her restraints, and stepped out first, turning into a blurry white silhouette for a moment - spurred on by the general paranoia of the pilots who had not jammed the landing fields. After giving the 'specialist' a few seconds to look around, Alex came out next.

The small white pearl-like balls that lined the front porch rustled underfoot. A wave of air, lifted by the flyers, swept the cars to a halt, bringing with it gusts of warm wind, leaves plucked from the trees, and the smell of the sea.

After passing through the haze of the protective field, Alex got a chance to look around. The manor appeared to be a two-story house. It was small and probably tiny by local standards.

The ground floor, made of massive and deliberately uneven blocks of reddish stone, flowed seamlessly into the second, made of dark red timber. In places, there were no walls, giving way to huge floor-to-ceiling windows. The wide double doors of the front door were wide open, and in front of them on a wide, almost flat porch lined with huge white slabs, Isalaya and eight guards of honor from her "hand" were already waiting for them.

Isalaya was wearing a white and silver sparkling flowing gown with a high waist and a train. The short sleeves widened sharply at the elbows, turning into two long silvery ribbons that fell to the floor. A wide semi-circular neckline revealed a neck adorned with a chain with massive navy blue jewels, which ended in a bright red sparkling spindle-shaped stone resting on the chest.

"Alex!" Marquise exclaimed anxiously and hurried towards her, the ribbons of her sleeves fluttering in a silvery inversion trail behind her.

Once beside him, Isalaya hugged him impetuously, kissing him on the cheeks at the same time:

"I've already heard about the assassination attempt. That's terrible! Thank the Protectress, you're all right!"

"I'm glad as well," he smiled wryly, looking intently into Isalaya's face.

Her eyes widened and moved in quick jerks as if they were probing Alex's face, her lips twitched slightly and her cheeks flushed slightly. She literally radiated a sincere concern and concern that didn't sit well with her "predatory" features. It gave a rather strange impression.

Kind of like a distraught hawk. And yet her problems with accessing the accounts would disappear with my death.

But it was hard to believe it was just a "play" - she looked so natural and excited.

And insanely beautiful.

And if there's one thing Alex has learned from experience, you have to keep an eye on beautiful women.

Isalaya finally opened her arms and sighed in relief: "I'm sorry," she smiled embarrassedly. "I got so excited. I don't know why. Let's go inside now."

It was very spacious and bright inside - a simple wooden staircase without a banister led up to the first floor, where they ascended, leaving Taer on the ground floor in the company of the guards from Isalaya's Arm.

Alex sent his 'specialist' a look of apology goodbye, she was to be left alone with eight men who might not be treating her well after she'd smashed one of their knees. But taking her along wasn't the best idea either - hiring assassins was to be discussed and how Taer would react to the idea - he didn't know.

On the other hand, the guardsmen don't look aggressive, more like curious, Alex mentally excused himself as he followed Isalaya up the stairs. And Taer has the perfect opportunity to paint a picture of personal heroism during the attack.

"Well, where shall we go?" Marquise asked slyly. "Left or right?"

A wide, slightly rounded, wood-paneled wall ran down the middle, dividing the room into two parts - the right side appeared to be the bedroom (at least there was a huge bed covered with snow-white fluffy skins, patterned rugs on the floor, and a mysterious half-light filled the room), while the left side was filled with the light that came from the two absent walls. Right in the center was a large horseshoe-shaped sofa with a small table in the middle. A huge chandelier, similar to a column of thin triangular crystals, hung from the ceiling almost to the table. The light breeze made the crystals shake slightly, filling the room with a melodious chime.

"I think it's better to the left," Alex waved towards the sofa.

"So you're here on business," Isalaya sighed sadly, gesturing for him to take a seat.

She snapped her fingers and summoned a small holo-terminal that appeared in front of her, at chest level, in a cloud of golden sparks. She pressed a few keys and, with a wave of her hand, made it shatter into a cloud of weightless dust:

"What do you think of my place?" she asked as she sat down across from me.

"Very cozy," Alex admitted sincerely, receiving a grateful smile from Marquise in return. It was the first local space he'd ever visited that wasn't overwhelmingly cyclopean. "And the view is great," he nodded toward the small lagoon on the "inside" side of the manor.

Soon footsteps were heard from the staircase, and two pretty girls in brown shirts and pale knee-length skirts with turquoise aprons, accompanied by a small floating platform laden with various bottles and vases of fruit and snacks, came up to the first floor.

"You know," Isalaya said, eyeing the maids, who remained completely silent as they set the table. "I've been thinking a lot about your memory loss, and I don't think it's such a bad thing. You can see so many beautiful places all over again and so many interesting things to do for the first time. And it's a good reason to know if it was friendship or habit - we can literally get to know each other all over again," she looked intently into his eyes. "If that's what you want."

"How could I mind?" Alex smiled as naturally as possible.

"Do you already know who is behind the attempt on your life?" Isalaya asked after the maids had left, leaving the switched-on suppressor on the table.

Alex took out his mini suppressor and placed it on the table. Marquise raised an eyebrow in surprise but said nothing.

"Let's just say," Alex scratched his chin thoughtfully. "I have several assumptions, and they seem close to reality to me."

"Will you tell me about it?"

"I don't think it will do any good," he shook his head. "So far, it's nothing more than my thoughts for internal use - it takes a long time to explain, and it's not much use. In short, I think there's another House behind this, something that seems to be connected to a possible marriage to Valerie Bellar."

Isalaya stretched out on the sofa and gave him a skeptical smile as if to say, 'if you don't want then don't talk'.

"All right," she grinned after a moment's hesitation. "What can I do to help?"

"Remember you told me about the so-called 'hired professionals' who should preferably be called off."

"I remember," Isalaya nodded. "Maybe I imagined it, but I think you made it clear that you didn't care."

"In light of what happened, I realized I was wrong," Alex reported with a sad smile. "Could you tell me more about that, who hired them, and how they should be called off."

...Or better yet, redirect.

"Well..." Marquise looked up at the ceiling. "I don't know much. It was you and Dimir. Mostly you. Dimir, through his contacts in the Security Service, found out who was doing this, and you had already negotiated and handed over the money."

"SS?!" Alex was stunned. Are they out of their minds here? "Er... is it safe to involve the SS in this sort of thing?

"No, of course," the shadow of a condescending smile slid across Isalaya's face. "But no one involved the SS - Dimir, thanks to his connections, has had access to very secret SS lists. And they, you know, try to keep an eye on professionals of that kind."

"And what kind of professionals are these?"

"I have no idea. I only know the middleman with whom you negotiated terms and to whom you gave the money. Baroness Istar."

"Er... you mean Lady Faith Baroness Istar?" Alex clarified. Marquess had managed to surprise him twice in one conversation.

"Well, yes," Marquess nodded with an 'it's obvious' look. "As far as I know, there are no other Baronesses Istar."

"It's just that what I've seen doesn't seem to fit with this kind of activity," Alex admitted. Maybe - just a disguise, though? Hiding where it's brighter? "How much money did we give her?"

"Four million danarii and the same amount afterward. Besides, it's not like she's doing this on her own. Despite her conflict with the Shisrodak clan, she still has plenty of connections to the Cartels, and they have specialists of that sort."

"I meant the secrecy," Alex explained. "There's always a crowd of SS around her, and generally speaking, she doesn't seem to be a low-key person."

"You know," Isalaya snickered. "I've never been particularly fond of Lady Faith, but one thing about her is that she's a real noblewoman of the old school. You know, the "four rules of nobility"... Well, she is, and if she's got her word, you can be pretty sure she'll keep a secret. And, then... The SSs only accompany her during public appearances and planet descents. There are none on her ship, and that's where you met."

"I see." Alex had no idea what the 'four rules' were. "And how do you envisage the 'recall' procedure?"

"Very simple. You need to meet Lady Faith again and persuade her to call off the 'specialists'."

"Simple indeed, how I didn't realize it myself," Alex hummed.

He remembered very vividly at that moment the scene of the beating of the journalists. Baroness Istar gave him the impression of an absolute badass.

How, one wonders, is one to negotiate with such a person?

"I'm sure everything will go perfectly." Isalaya reached forward and stroked his arm encouragingly. "After all, it's not like we're going to revoke their payment. You could say they'll get money for not doing the work it sounds like a great deal to me. For them. I can go with you if you like," she added, stretching out on the sofa again.

"I don't think it will have any effect on the negotiations."

Alex watched the play of sunlight on the surface of the waves thoughtfully. He sat like that for a while, then shook himself off and looked at Isalaya more cheerfully, even enthusiastically this time:

"And how do I contact her?"

"I don't know." She smiled back. "Maybe your Office knows? Or Taer, or maybe the data was left in your communicator or in the cluster. All I know is that you've been in contact with her under the guise of gathering information about your ancestors. Although your meetings weren't advertised anyway."

"I see," Alex sighed and got up from the sofa, patting himself on the knee. "We'll keep looking. Anyway, thanks for your help."

"You're welcome." Isalaya got up from the sofa, too. She stepped closer and looked into his eyes. "Alex, are you sure there's nothing else I can do for you?"

"You've already helped me a lot!" he assured her.

She lowered her eyes and ran her hand across his chest with a somewhat distracted expression on her face:

"I want you to know that I'm afraid for you. What if you're unlucky a third time? You can't be lucky all the time, can you? You're not ascended, are you?" She asked, looking into his eyes again with such pain in her eyes and such a pitying expression on her face that Alex's first impulse was to hug her and tell her that he really was "ascended" and that everything would be all right.

"I'll manage," he finally managed to get out. "Everything will be all right."

"Are you sure? After all, I can hide you until things settle down," she smiled sadly. "I'm a big expert at that."

"I'm sure!" Alex nodded as firmly as possible.

Just rebook one lord along with the professor, and all will be well!

He smiled at Isalaya (with what he hoped was a confident smile) and headed for the stairs - he still had to figure out how to contact Lady Faith and convince her to cancel one order. And accept another.

As he approached the 'dividing' wall, something hot came around his back - Isalaya knew how to move completely silently when she wanted to.

"Did you really expect to slip away so easily?" She cooed playfully in my ear. "I've forgotten everything, and I can show you the whole estate all over again."

"Well, I don't even know..." Alex hesitated. "I had hoped to make an appointment for today..."

"I've been planning this all by myself." Isalaya ignored my objections and didn't stop hugging me. "This is my pride, and you're about to leave, and it's not clear if you're coming back! No! I won't let you go so easily!" she said firmly. "For instance..." She turned him toward the bedroom and pointed to the huge bed:"

"You know how fluffy it is..." the huge, predatory cat purred in my ear. "Do you want to flop?"

"Well, unless..." he smiled and pressed a finger to his lips. "Only if it's very quiet, or the evil Taer will come and shoot again."

Isalaya's eyes flashed back at him, and she suddenly but gently pecked him on the ear.

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