“No, Sef, no! Say …! Oh. Oh, of course; me too. I should. Should have … he … how could …? Oh, the fool …”

“Going dark … What, you too? My love? Have we …? Is this some …? Are we being …? Are we be—?”

“Doesn’t know. Oh, the cruel, the stupid!”

“Not, not feeling … so good. Where’s my – it was here. I need to call – Oh, fuck, I’m really …”

“I’m so sorry, I’m so, so sorry. Please …”

“Never – it doesn’t … just hold …”

“I’m sorry! I’m so—”

“Just hold …”

“So sorry …”

“Just …”

“So …”

Nineteen

(S -6)

“Wasn’t anything found?”

“Mere traces, Septame. Some form of highly sophisticated, very hi-tech device, already starting to dissolve into her flesh and blood the moment after it had delivered its payloads.”

“Payloads?”

Physician General Locuil nodded. “The first, almost certainly, into the president. The second, into Ms Orpe. Possibly a few seconds apart, perhaps almost at the same time. There is so little left of the device – so little not turned into its constituent molecules, at any rate – it’s hard to tell, but the likelihood is it was something tuned to Sef’s own genes, something that would only activate at her touch. Then, once it had delivered the toxin into her, it would deliver its second payload into the carrier, into Orpe.” Locuil held up his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “To stop her talking, we have to assume. We also have to assume that she knew the device was in there, but didn’t know it would kill the president. She might have thought it was going to drug her, or – given where it was – she might have thought it would, you know, enhance things for her, for both of them. We can’t know.”

The physician general sighed, sat back. He massaged his face with one hand. He sat across the septame’s desk from Banstegeyn. Marshal Chekwri sat nearby; no others were present in the septame’s private study in his town house, though both the marshal and the physician general had staff waiting in an ante-room along with Banstegeyn’s own people, including Jevan and Solbli.

Outside, it was almost dawn.

The two bodies had been discovered by the president’s own security team when her comm bracelet – taken off, lying by the bedside – had finally registered that the local sets of vital signs had altered anomalously. Both women had been beyond saving for many minutes before they were discovered, the fast-acting targeted synthetic neuro-toxins still multiplying within what was left of their brains and nervous systems, even as they gradually dissolved. A medical team of the best people and most exclusive machines had been working all night, trying to work out what had happened.

“But, the thing, this … how would it know to, when to … to activate?” Banstegeyn asked, aiming to sound bewildered without seeming too naively stupid.