“Do it.” Papa ordered. “As Alliance Police Commissioner General, I am commissioning you to protect Harper Morrero, and trace anyone who attempts to kill them. Report to me directly.”

“Acknowledged.” Aldrin, the others with her, their attendant beasts, and who knows how many other individuals, teams, and cities which formed a constellation lacing the human empire from Paris to Luna City, nodded.

“That’s it, then.” Martin’s shoulders slumped within his square-breasted Mason’s suit. “If they make this hit that’s it, we have them.”

Papa shook his head. “No.”

“No?”

“If they make this hit, we can prove someone in the Saneer-Weeksbooth bash’ has attempted one murder, but that’s all. We need one more thing to land the big fish.”

“More? We’re lucky to have even this. What more can we get?”

“A confession.”

“What? Whose?”

“Time to make a call.”

Call logged 03:42 UT 03/28/2454

Papadelias: “Foster, how are you hanging in there? I hope my forensic team wasn’t too rough.”

Foster: “I feel like I’ve been dry-cleaned.”

Papadelias: “I know the feeling. It’ll pass.”

Foster: “Do we know what Thisbe did to me? Do we have a plan? If it really was witchcraft we’re all in danger!”

Papadelias: “Give the lab time, Foster. I’ve called in some Utopians. Whether it’s fake witchcraft or real witchcraft, they’ll know better than anybody what to do.”

Foster: “I guess.”

Papadelias: “Look, Foster, I don’t have time for friendly. Give me the recording.”

Foster: “What recording?”

Papadelias: “I haven’t been stalking Julia Doria-Pamphili eleven years for nothing. I know how they work, and how they train their pawns to work. They taught you to eavesdrop, and if Thisbe Saneer tried to kill you it’s because you stumbled on something major. Julia’s also taught you to record everything on your tracker so you can review it afterwards. I need that recording.”

Foster: “There is no recording.”

Papadelias: “It’s not a violation of your vows, I’m not asking you to tattletale on something from a session, this is an unrelated scene that you happen to have witnessed.”

Foster: “There is no recording.”

Papadelias: “I know what you’re thinking, you’re thinking you wouldn’t have been there if you weren’t their sensayer, that you have to protect your parishioners, whether it was a session or not, but that’s bull.”

Foster: “There is no recording.”

Papadelias: “You know what they are, don’t you? The Saneer-Weeksbooth bash’. They’re just going to keep killing.”

Foster: “A sensayer can’t be forced to testify about planned crimes.”

Papadelias: “Do you know who they’re working for?”

Foster: “I don’t know anything.”

Papadelias: “Did they say who they’re working for?”

Foster: “I don’t know anything.”

Papadelias: “You think you’re protecting your parishioners, but you’re not. You’re protecting their bosses. We’re going to catch the bash’members, that’s a certainty at this point, and you know what’ll happen when we do? They’ll take full responsibility themselves, tell the world the assassinations were their idea from the start, and destroy any evidence to the contrary. Your parishioners will go to trial, Cato Weeksbooth will kill themself, and their bosses, the ones who’ve been forcing them to do this, they’ll sit back content and find a new way to get their killing done.”