Chapters (24)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- Acknowledgments
- Episode One: The B-Team
- Episode Two: Walk the Plank
- Episode Three: We Only Need the Heads
- Episode Four: A Voice in the Wilderness
- Episode Five: Tales from the Clarke
- Episode Six: The Back Channel
- Episode Seven: The Dog King
- Episode Eight: The Sound of Rebellion
- Episode Nine: The Observers
- Episode Ten: This Must Be the Place
- Episode Eleven: A Problem of Proportion
- Episode Twelve: The Gentle Art of Cracking Heads
- Episode Thirteen: Earth Below, Sky Above
- Extras
- After the Coup
- Hafte Sorvalh Eats a Churro and Speaks to the Youth of Today
- The End of All Things Teaser
- Tor Books by John Scalzi
- About the Author
“Aren’t we overlooking something here?” asked Luiza Carvalho. Everyone looked to her; it was the first time she had spoken since the group gathered in the medical bay.
“Overlooking what?” asked Coloma.
“The possibility this isn’t a natural death,” Carvalho said. “Cong was a healthy man, with no previous health issues.”
“With all due respect, Ms. Carvalho, that’s probably further than we need to go for an explanation,” Stone said. “It’s rather more likely Mr. Liu fell prey to a previously undiagnosed condition. It’s not uncommon, especially for people who have been superficially healthy. Their lack of obvious health issues means they don’t get in to see a doctor as often as others would. That lets not-so-obvious issues sneak up on them.”
“I understand that the simplest explanation is usually the correct one,” Carvalho said. “Of course. But I also know that in my home country of Brazil, assassination by poisoning has made a comeback. Last year a senator from Mato Grosso was killed by arsenic.”
“A political assassination?” Abumwe asked.
“No,” Carvalho admitted. “He was poisoned by his wife for sleeping with one of his legislative aides.”
“To be indelicate, may we assume such a situation is not happening here?” Abumwe asked.
Meyer looked around at his colleagues. “It’s safe to say that none of us were sleeping with Cong,” he said, to Abumwe. “It’s also safe to say that none of us had any professional reason to want him dead, either. With the exception of Thierry, none of us knew him prior to this mission. The mission selection criteria were as much political as anything else. We all represent different political interests at home, so there was no direct competition or professional jealousy.”
“Do all of your factions get along?” Wilson asked.
“For the most part,” Meyer said, and then pointed at Lowen. “Doctor Lowen represents America’s interests here, and the United States, for better or worse, still maintains a somewhat contentious primary position in global politics, especially post-Perry. The other political interests sought to minimize its influence on this mission, which is why Liu Cong was selected to head the mission, over U.S. objections, and why the U.S. representative—apologies here, Dani—is the most junior on the mission. But none of that rose to the level of skullduggery.”
“And I was with Lieutenant Wilson here for several hours, in any event,” Lowen said. This raised eyebrows, both Meyer’s and Abumwe’s. “Cong asked me to get to know our Colonial Union liaison better so we could get a better understanding of the lay of the land. So I did.” She turned to Wilson. “No offense,” she said.
“None taken,” Wilson said, amused.
“So it seems like poisoning or assassination is off the table,” Stone said.
“Unless it was someone on the Colonial Union side,” Carvalho said.
Abumwe, Wilson and Coloma exchanged glances.
This did not go unnoticed. “Okay, what was that?” asked Lowen.