“It might not appeal much to them,” DeMarco said. “I can testify getting naked in the shower this morning wasn’t a comfortable experience. And the rest of my personal business was even less fun.”

“You don’t need to get graphic on us,” Scull said. “I just ate.”

Nimec looked at them.

“Unless somebody’s got a better solution,” he said, “they’ll have to live with it. The same as we will.”

DeMarco took a deep breath, blew the air out with a long sigh.

“I’d hate to be the one who tells that to Tara Cullen,” he said.

Aboard the Chimera, Harlan DeVane stood looking west over the deck rail as the evening sun swooned into the sea, its sputtering tropical fire reflected in orange dabs on the water’s surface.

DeVane’s fingers wanted to tighten around his black line cell phone, but he resisted the angry urge, willing the hand to remain steady.

“This word you’ve gotten from your source at the newspaper,” he said into the cellular’s mouthpiece. “There is no question about its accuracy?”

“No,” Etienne Begela said from his end of their connection. “A declaration of multiparty government ratification of the telecom licenses is to be announced on the front page of tomorrow morning’s edition. In accordance with the Cangele agenda, they are to be ratified without further review for a minimum of fifteen years. All key members of the president’s parliamentary opposition have adopted a revised stance in his favor, and there is to be a public display of solidarity in the capital.” A pause. “I hold in my hand a facsimile of the article’s first draft. It is to appear in L’Union.”

“The government’s voice.”

“Correct.”

DeVane thought in silence, felt the mild heaving of the deck under his feet. The still air smelled of brine and throbbed faintly with the sound of the offshore pumps.

This would look bad for him, and he could not afford it. Not once more could he afford it. While he had always expected his endeavors here would be of finite duration, he would need time to maximize their profitability. And winning it meant taking a calculated gamble.

“When is the UpLink team to tour the headquarters site in Sette Cama?”

“Also tomorrow.”

“Their head of security will be among those going?”

“As it stands, yes. I’ve readied the contingency plan for implementation.”

“Its threads must not lead to me. Nor anywhere close.”

“That was of highest importance, naturellement. My only concern is its amplitude. That the scope of its enactment will lead them to look beyond appearances.”

Of course it would, DeVane thought. It was what he wanted—something to stagger and confuse UpLink at its moment of success, and foster insecurities among its financial backers. Let them imagine their enemies coming from all sides, and wonder who they were . . . so long as the answers to their questions remained entwined in mystery.