Gameboard of the Gods

“There’s always a party,” said Mae.

The aide cleared her throat. “Um, Dr. March? This is Senator Darling’s office.” She looked distinctly uncomfortable, probably because she’d never actually heard any of the prætorians here speak—or seen them laugh.

“Right,” said Justin, still transfixed by the easy banter between alleged killing machines. “Thank you. We’ll take it from here.” The aide left, and he hesitated before going into the office. He felt like he’d be depriving Mae of something if he took her away. “You can stay if you want,” he said. “You don’t even really need to come along. I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a wait.”

He would’ve expected dutiful Mae to protest, but instead, she turned that smile on him. “Thank you.”

I guess that’s what you have to do for the smile, said Horatio. Be careful or she might start liking you again.

When he’d told her there’d be a wait, Justin had mostly said it to justify his offer. He hadn’t actually expected to be stuck in the reception area for a half hour. Mae stuck her head in three times, anxious about being away, and he waved her off each time. The receptionist responded haughtily when Justin reminded him they had an appointment.

“The senator is very busy. Often his meetings run over.”

Justin wondered if that was true or if Lucian had simply fallen asleep in his office. In the old days, that wouldn’t have been out of character.

But when the door finally opened, two official-looking women stepped out and shook hands with Lucian, gushing gratitude for his time.

“The senator will see you now,” said the receptionist.

“There’s a woman with me,” Justin told him. “Show her in when she gets back.”

“Of course there’s a woman with you,” said Lucian. “There always is.” He shook Justin’s hand and beckoned him inside.

Once the door was shut, Lucian sat on the edge of his desk and shook his head. “Unbelievable. When I saw your name on my schedule, I thought it was a joke.”

Justin took a few moments to assess his old friend and roommate. He looked just as he had on TV, smiling and charming, with that new tawny hair color that the saleswoman had claimed was “hot.”

“That’s funny, because I thought the same thing when I saw you running for consul.” Justin walked over to a bottle of scotch sitting near the window. At least some things never changed. “May I?”

“Knock yourself out.” Justin could feel Lucian’s eyes weighing him. “The election’s old news, but then, I hear you’ve been away.”

Justin poured a glass. “Yeah? How’d you’d hear that? I mean, aside from me not returning all the calls I know you must’ve made to me these last four years.”

“I did a little investigating when I saw your name come up. Well, my assistant did.” Some of Lucian’s swagger faded. “What the hell did you do? People don’t get exiled. And they certainly don’t come back from it.”

It was a relief to know that Lucian’s access didn’t stretch that far, but Justin wasn’t surprised. The majority of Internal Security didn’t even know his full background.

“It’s not really that interesting of a story,” Justin said. “Especially compared to how a guy who was once on the committee that regulated pets riding on public transportation became a candidate for consul.”

Lucian took the hint and smiled again. “You don’t think I care about our country? And its pets?”

“I think you’ve always been the type to take the easy way out. You always tried to get by under the radar.”

“Yeah, well, one day, I made myself a target.” Lucian’s brown eyes narrowed as he drifted into some memory. “A comment at a lunch about how it was time to get rid of the last of the mandates. It was supposed to be off the record—but wasn’t. The next thing I knew, Lucian Darling was the champion of those seeking genetic freedom. My party rode that popularity and convinced me it was an opportunity we couldn’t miss.” He spread out his hands. “And so here I am, one of the youngest consular candidates in history.”

“Having to own your words.”

“It’s not that bad. I really do believe in what I do, you know.” He nodded toward Justin’s scotch. “What do you think?”

“Excellent. Of course, I’ve been in the provinces, so my bar’s still pretty low these days.”

Lucian laughed. “I heard that too. You know who gave it to me? Religious-freedom lobbyists.”

Wow. Lucian really was involved with heavy platforms now. College days and dorm-room parties seemed like centuries ago.

“You’re trying to break open everything. Genes and religion. It really is a new age.”

“I never said I supported them.” Justin noticed Lucian also didn’t say he opposed them either. “You worried you’ll be out of a job?”

“I’ll just run for public office. I hear it’s not that hard.”

That brought another smile from Lucian, and Justin wondered if it was the one Tessa said they shared. “Don’t worry, I have plenty of antireligious ones knocking at my door—and they’ve got a lot more money. Anyway, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company? You never paid me casual visits before you left.”

“I have a favor to ask.”

“The last time you asked for a favor, my girlfriend ended up bent over your desk.” Lucian poured himself a glass.

Justin sighed. “When are you going to get over that? She was your ex-girlfriend, and she really was helping me with my essay.”

“Yeah? What exactly was it on?”

Lucian’s receptionist suddenly opened the door and stepped aside so that Mae could enter. “Sorry,” Mae told Justin. “I didn’t realize you’d gone in.”

She’d become serious again, back to her professional mode, but he could still see a little of that light in her face. Lucian saw it too. He swiftly set down the scotch and strode over to her, his gallant smile turned all the way up.

“Senator,” she said, taking his hand. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

“You can call me Lucian. We aren’t big on formalities around here.” Lucian kept holding her hand. “And I can call you…?”

“Mae.” She was smiling too, but thankfully, it was with amusement and not that earlier joy.

“Prætorian Mae Koskinen,” said Justin.

He hoped that would make Lucian back off, but mostly it seemed to intrigue him even more.

“Are you?” Lucian looked her over like he was doing some official assessment of her physical strength, but Justin suspected he was actually checking out the way her chest looked under her clinging georgette blouse. “I can’t believe I’ve never seen you around here.”

Keep him away from her, said Magnus, more heatedly than Justin was used to.

I know you’ve still got high hopes for me and her, said Justin, but come on. He’s not her type.

Which type would that be? asked Horatio. The tall, good-looking, powerful, and charming type? He could interfere with your chances.

I have all of those things going for me, retorted Justin. Not that I want a chance.

He’s taller, said Horatio.

Surprisingly, Magnus actually sounded frustrated with both Justin and his fellow raven. It’s more than that! The goddess who wants her still hasn’t made an official claim. That makes Mae vulnerable to others.

Magnus had been fairly coherent since their return to the RUNA, so Justin supposed it had only been a matter of time before the raven returned to his old ways. No matter the setting or attire, “vulnerable” was a word Justin had never applied to Mae.

“She’s not stationed here,” said Justin. He paused dramatically. “She’s assigned to me.”

This was enough to make Lucian drag his eyes from Mae. He frowned. “What does that mean?”

“Well, you know how dangerous and harrowing my job is, what with the constant assaults on my life and unstable dissidents I face.”

Mae gave Justin an incredulous look.

“So, SCI decided to up my protection since I’m so important.” Feeling more in control again, Justin poured another glass of scotch. “Mae’s my bodyguard. We’re off together to the Nipponese grant. She goes with me everywhere. Everywhere.”

She picked up on the subtext and fixed him with a chilly look. “That’s a bit of an exaggeration.”

“He exaggerates about a lot of things to a lot of women,” said Lucian. He turned to Justin. “So what’s this favor?”

Putting Lucian in his place was an activity Justin never tired of, but the clock was ticking, and he did actually have serious business to discuss. “SCI’s been doing a lot of hiring. The number of servitors has shot up in the last six months.”

“Probably at the cost of some other worthy government program,” said Lucian. “Is this you being worried about your job again? That they might find someone better and cheaper?”

“No, I want to know what the increase is for. We’ve had things locked down for years. If anything, the numbers should be decreasing.”

Lucian decided to let the banter go as well. “You could look in your own backyard for that. Someone at SCI should know.”

“I’m sure someone does, but they aren’t telling me.” The best he’d received was a lot of meaningless “surplus budget” and “extra openings” mumbling—but nothing concrete. Cornelia had blown him off, and he didn’t have the access or good graces to badger anyone higher than her. “Someone in Internal Security—or more importantly, a senator with friends there—might be willing to tell a promising young senator who’s running for consul. It’d be a great way to curry favor.”

“I see.” Lucian’s lips quirked. “It’d be a weird request, though.”