“Ganymede, control yourself!” Andō ordered. “The child didn’t plot this, they know nothing.”

The Duke strained against our grips, his gold mane bright as fire against Andō’s black. “Get that creature out of here!” he ordered. “And I want whoever let it in here flogged! No, bring the one responsible to me, I’ll do it with my own hands!”

Lounging against the shelves of toys and Plato in Jehovah’s corner, Dominic could not entirely suppress a smile.

“Carlyle, come with me.” Kosala reached for the sensayer’s shoulder. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Don’t tell me I shouldn’t be here, Chair Kosala!” Carlyle slapped Kosala’s hand away like an intruding insect. “I’m the one who gave Papadelias the evidence to expose this whole conspiracy. I’m the one who was almost killed last night by Thisbe Saneer trying to cover it up. I’m the one all of you have been trying so hard to keep in the dark, even you! When we met here before you told me you were just here as an outside inspector.” Carlyle’s hot eyes ranged her tight-corseted bodice, custom made. “You lied.”

Bryar had a few inches on Carlyle and used them, glaring down with the stern authority of Teacher, Queen, and Mom combined. “It’s my job to protect you, and yours to listen to me. I wish you had.”

Carlyle’s throat convulsed. “I was happy as a Gag-gene. I didn’t want to know. But I was trying to save you and the CFB. This is the price I paid.” Carlyle winced, feeling tears leak. “You can’t leave me with half the truth. I was born here, wasn’t I? I’m part of this… I won’t call it a bash’.”

Kosala swallowed hard. “Please wait outside for me. I’ll come as soon as I can, but we have more important things to—”

“No,” MASON judged, “we don’t.”

Bryar’s frown looked hurt. “Cornel…”

A true modern like you, rational reader, would not perhaps allow such melodrama to distract you from Earth’s crisis, but decades at Madame’s have taught even Caesar to think in terms of sentiment and honor. “Foster may be a Cousin, Bryar, but that doesn’t make this your decision. I am the Praeses Maximus. I guard the list of Gag-genes in the Sanctum Sanctorum, and if anyone had told me Carlyle Foster had set foot in this house, I would have summoned them at once to warn them of the danger. It’s too late now.” He stepped a short pace toward Kosala, his limp as bad as I had ever seen. “Foster is in pain, Bryar, the greatest pain they’ve ever experienced.” He glanced at his Good Son, the Source of this strict kindness. “Nothing else is urgent enough to justify extending that.”

Kosala hesitated. “I know, Cornel, I just… not here in front of everyone.”

“Why not?” Carlyle’s eyes shot from Power to Power, these distant faces, seen so many times on screens. “Why not in front of everyone? I get the feeling I’m the only person in this room who doesn’t know.”