“If you were ill, you’d have radio’d ahead to call off the meeting. Is that a bottle of the local emetic? I’ll have a drop.”

“Here. Settle down.” Jacob poured. “What have you got for me?”

Esau shrugged. “This.” A leather purse appeared, as magically as Jacob’s pistol. “Pharmaceutical-grade, half a kilo.”

“That’ll do.” Jacob transferred it to his belt pouch without expression. “Anything else?”

“Well.” Esau settled down and picked up the full glass. “Certain feathers have been—ruffled, shall we say—by the news of those pink slippers. That account was supposed to have been settled a very long time ago. Do you have an update for me?”

“Yes.” Jacob nodded, then picked up his own glass. “Nothing good. A couple more sightings and then a search and sweep found a very wet chair in the woods near Fort Lofstrom. It was from the other side. Need I say any more? It was too obvious to cover up, so the old man sent a snatch squad through and they pulled in a woman. Age thirty-two, professional journalist, and clearly a long-lost cousin.”

“A woman journalist? Things are passing strange over there.”

“You’re telling me. Sometimes I get to visit on business. It’s even weirder than those sheep-shagging slant-eyes on the west coast.” Jacob put the empty glass down—hard—on the table. “Why does this shit always happen when I’m in charge?”

“Because you’re good,” soothed Esau. “Don’t worry, we’ll get it sorted out and I’m pretty sure the—control—will authorize a reward for this. It’s exactly what we’ve been looking out for all these years.” He smiled at Jacob and raised his glass. “To your success.”

“Huh.” But Jacob raised his (empty) glass right back, then refilled both of them. “Well. The old asshole put the runaway on her case, but she’s turning out to be a bit hot. She’s the grand dowager’s granddaughter, you know? And a tear-away. All too common in women from over there, you know. She’s poking her nose into all sorts of corners. If the old bat recognizes her formally, seven shades of shit will hit the Clan council balance of power, but I have a plan that I think will cover the possibility. She could be very useful if I can coopt her.”

“What about her mother?” Esau leaned forward.

“Dead.” Jacob shrugged. “The baby was adopted on the other side. That’s why she was missing for so long. We’ve got the foster mother under surveillance, but…” he shook his head. “It’s a thirty-two-year-old trail. What do you expect?”