“Kind of like us?” said Alister. “People make up conspiracy theories about us, but we’re the real deal. Maybe Mostafa has a past.”
Boots smoothed back a stray strand of hair. “That’s… a surprisingly good point, Al.”
“And if the Children of the Singularity want her old things—” Nilah began.
“I’m starting to believe some of these theories about her.” Boots sat down on the edge of Cedric’s desk, much to his chagrin. “So Rebecca Grimsby was trying to buy one of Mostafa’s data cubes when we arrested her, which means the seller went to ground.”
“After you shot up the place, yes,” said Cedric. “But never fear. We’ve been working on that problem. Grimsby and the seller were using an escrow service, and we just happened to arrest the owner for tax evasion recently.”
“He ‘just happened’ to be cheating on his taxes?” asked Nilah, and Cedric chortled.
“Everyone is cheating on their taxes, Miss Brio. We just keep that in our back pocket for when we need to arrest someone,” he said. “Here’s why this case is perfect for you: Miss Elsworth has knowledge of Sekhet Mostafa. You, Miss Brio, are already acquainted with the seller.”
Her surprise was much stronger than her friends’ coffee. “What? I am?”
“You are. It’s an old teammate of yours, apparently: Baron Valentino Gaultier. I thought, since you used to be friends, you could reach out to him, and—”
Nilah gave him an incredulous look, caught between annoyance at his presumption and outright laughter at his ignorance. “Why the hell would you think Tino and I are friends?”
Cedric looked at her sidelong. “Because you… used to be teammates? You were karting buddies, right?”
Nilah crossed her arms, turning up her nose at him. “Do you know anything about racing? Anything at all? Your teammate is your worst enemy, chum.”
“What? Why?” asked Cordell.
Looking over her comrades, she expected one of them to chime in, but no one spoke. “Have none of you listened to what I’ve said about racing? For two years, I’ve told you stories of—”
“Wasn’t particularly interesting before now,” Cordell mumbled, scratching his head and looking away.
Nilah swallowed an indignant gasp and straightened. “Fine. When you’re in the same type of car, you’re rivals. Most years, a team will replace one of the drivers. You have to make sure that if they’re going to cut someone from the team, it’s not you, so…” She wobbled her head, as if she could shake loose the right phrase. “You know… you do whatever it, uh, takes.”
“And what did you do to Valentino?” Orna asked without even a pause.
Nilah gave her an embarrassed look; her fiancée knew her all too well. “I… may have, uh, caused the accident that ended the baron’s racing career.”
“Are you serious?” Cordell shook his head. “First decent lead in months, and you already blew it?”
“I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t realize my karting days were going to decide the fate of the bloody universe!”
“And yet, that’s a surprisingly apt description of what happened,” said Malik. “Because you raced, Mother attacked you, and the universe was saved.”
Cedric recoiled. “Oh. I’ve clearly made a mistake, then. I’ll have another Compass operative assigned and—”
“No,” said Cordell. “Give us this case. Been chewing scraps too long, and arresting Grimsby just made us want something bigger.”
“But if Miss Brio has already fouled our chances…” Cedric trailed off.
“Please,” said Nilah. “I can smooth things over. I know how to talk to Gaultier on two levels: as a racer, and as an elite. I’m sure it’s going to be fine. Besides, he likes to collect influential friends. I’m influential.”
Orna made an “eh” noise, and Nilah elbowed her.
“Okay,” said Cedric, handing over a crystalline data cube. “This is everything we have on the baron. You’re to acquire Mostafa’s effects using whatever means you feel appropriate, then rendezvous with Task Force Sixty. Do not take that to mean you can harm a Carrétan noble. Task Force Sixty has been conducting operations against the Children of the Singularity with some success, and they’ll want to analyze the goods for actionable intel.”
“Any potential complications?” asked the captain.
Cedric leaned back in his chair. “Probably not, though our civic anthropologists are tracking a host of new splinter groups after the Masquerade. Nothing that should affect you per se, but it wouldn’t be bad to spread the info.”
Boots’s expression darkened. “New cults?”
“Not exactly,” he answered. “Sympathizers. The more of Witts’s crimes come to light, the more the hard-line anti-GATO groups come out trying to orchestrate secession. The good ones use protests. The bad ones… well…”
“That’s because they can all just jump up and say, ‘I love Witts,’ on the Link, and do everything short of swearing fealty to an enemy flag,” said Boots, cheeks flushing with anger. “Maybe if you criminalized being a freaking terrorist—”
Cedric held up a hand. “I’d prefer to have free speech, thank you. We’re working through the watch list as fast as we can.”
Nilah shook her head. “As long as we’re not taking any of those assignments, I’ll be fine. No more cult infiltration for this girl.”
“You’re the tip of the spear, now. If I call you about a cult cell, I just want you to take them out, not talk to them. Most of these people are yahoos.”
“That’s what your lot thought last time, though,” said Boots. “I want a dossier on all of the groups working with Witts.”
With a snort, the special agent replied, “There are over thirteen hundred. It’d be a full-time job just to read today’s developments.” Seeing everyone’s annoyance, he added, “I’ll get you my intel on the top five orgs of interest, okay? It’ll take me some time, though.”
“Can we get the short version?” Cordell rested his hands on his hips.
“There is obviously the Children of the Singularity, but we’ve got the Bonded Haft—a secessionist militia; Aoyurei—a bunch of violent mystics; the Conservators—they made the list when our operative disappeared; the Alliance of the True Code—who like to bomb government buildings; and my personal favorite: the Last Gambit.” The man took a moment to bring home his disgust. “They have a thing against immigrants on Taitu.”
Orna cracked her knuckles. “I might like to meet some of the Gambit punks in a dark alley.”
“No one is as dangerous as the Gods of the Harrow, themselves,” said Cedric. “Our Fifth Fleet has been playing cat and mouse with their shipyards, destroying anything they can find… and uncovered a disturbing amount of resources and resistance.”
Boots wrinkled her nose. “Like a big giant cult with dozens of insidious plots to destroy the galaxy for no discernible reason?”
The bureaucrat soured. “No, Boots. Like billions in capital equipment and manufacturing tech—the sort of infrastructure required to maintain a standing military. There’s something big lurking out there, so you need to focus on Witts, and let us handle his oddball followers.”