Rules of Conflict Read Online Free PDF Page B

curses at the world in general. Not a
Felician accent, Jani noted. Earthbound. No surprise there. Lots of
Earthbounders worked on Felix.
    She stepped onto the platform and surveyed the scene around her as
she waited for the train. Across the street, she saw the man who had bumped her
standing in the Guv Hall entryway, watching her. Then the street wove
and roiled like a banner in the wind. Just as she sagged to her knees, Jani
heard footsteps close in from behind. Then it all went black—

Chapter 3
    “So what do we do now, Quino?” Evan van Reuter flipped his
stylus from one hand to another. “We’ve been waiting for one goddamn piece of
paper for two hours.”
    Joaquin Loiaza shot a look uptable at the SIB chief investigator.
But Colonel Veda was engaged in anxious discussion with the Judge Advocate’s
representative, and didn’t appear aware of the mutterings at the far end of the
conference table. “In truth, Evan, we’ve been waiting for two goddamn pieces of
paper. The Hilfington roster would be nice, but we’ll take the Kensington master if we have to.”
    “By my count, this makes the fourth time in a month they’ve
misplaced documents.”
    “Yes, their track record does fail to impress. I must consider how
to turn that to our advantage.” Joaquin rubbed his chin thoughtfully. As
always, the old-coin aspect of his close-cropped brown hair and regal nose was
offset by the pinched look around his turtlelike eyes.
    Caesar with a migraine. Evan tapped the stylus on the table
and stole another glance at Colonel Veda. Since she sat, he could only see her
from the waist up. Closely trimmed black hair. Creamy brown skin. A noble face,
handsome rather than pretty. He’d yet to see her smile, but he guessed those
dark brown eyes could sparkle given the right encouragement. He knew from other
stolen glances that her Service summerweights hugged lovely curves.
    Her first name’s Chandra. A soft, lovely name. Yes, in
another lifetime, he would have asked Durian Ridgeway to don his go-between hat
and invite her to an assignation in one of the rented flats the Interior
Ministry had scattered throughout Chicago. In that other lifetime, she would
have accepted.
    But in this lifetime, Durian is dead and Veda thinks I’m a
worm. Evan struck the stylus against the table—tiny shards of poly sprayed
across the surface as the writing tip shattered. “What difference do the ship
records from the evac make?” He swept the plastic bits over the tableside and
onto the carpeted floor. “They know I was there—that’s why I’m in trouble now.”
    Joaquin sighed. “Pretend you’re still a cabinet minister and use
your brain. We want to build sympathy. Highlight the hardships you endured
during the idomeni civil war and the evacuation, the hardships that still haunt
your memory eighteen years later. The terror as the Haárin stalked Rauta
Shèràa, slaughtering the fallen Laum, while their Vynshàrau puppetmasters
watched from the surrounding hills.”
    “You make it sound like a ’Vee melodrama. All that’s missing is
the closing clinch with the girlfriend to the strains of the Commonwealth
anthem.” Evan smiled to mask his unease. He had many reasons to dread his
memories—he didn’t relish the thought of his own attorney dredging them up
again.
    Especially the memories he’d deny to the grave.
    Joaquin’s stylus scraped across the surface of his recording
board. “Only you would see it that way. A more sober-minded individual would
have lived in constant fear.”
    Evan’s smile died. Fear? Of what? The bombs? The panic? The rumors
of a massacre by a human of twenty-six Laumrau in a place called Knevçet
Shèràa? That the Haárin might ignore their cultural conditioning and avenge the
disorderly deaths of their enemies by slaughtering the remaining inhabitants of
Rauta Shèràa’s human enclave?
    That his government would find out the things he’d done? That
escaping execution in Rauta Shèràa only