“The Resolution never helped Thea,” Aren said. “I don’t see why you’d want to defend them.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m happier if all the power sits with you and your commanders,” Jainan said hoarsely. “This is a war crime.”

“Oh, no, don’t get me wrong, I agree,” Aren said. “Which makes it gloriously hypocritical that when I started skimming my own percentage off the top, Taam found out and threatened to rat me out to Fenrik. Invading Thea without telling the Emperor is fine, apparently, but Heaven forbid someone tries their hand at personal enrichment.”

So that was why Aren killed Taam, Jainan thought. He felt numb. In the middle of Taam’s grand scheme to bring Thea to heel and start a new, glorious chapter, he’d caught Aren with his hand in the cookie jar and got himself killed

for it. Taam had never known when to be subtle.

Aren slid off the crate and to his feet, looking at someone Jainan couldn’t see.

“You’re late.”

“Sorry, sir,” a gravelly voice said. A woman in a trooper’s uniform came into Jainan’s field of vision, carefully putting on some antistatic gloves. “Came as soon as I got the order.”

Jainan had thought he was beyond fear, but a thread of it sprang up as she approached. Aren wouldn’t have told him this if he expected Jainan to remain alive to talk about it. He forced himself to keep his eyes on Aren. “What’s the point of this? You can’t expect Internal Security and Fenrik to both blame me.

Your evidence is too thin, and my death in custody will look suspicious.”

“I don’t actually want you to die,” Aren said briskly. He brushed off his uniform fastidiously, as if bringing the conversation to a close. “I just need someone to take the fall for Taam’s death and for the money I borrowed. Then Fenrik can get on with annexing Thea, the Resolution treaty will fall apart, and everything will be back on track.”

The trooper was doing something to a machine beside him. Jainan felt a coolness spreading from the patch in his arm and started to breathe faster as he realized it was a sedative. The woman picked up something and turned around; Jainan took a second to recognize it as a medical helmet. It was more complex than the ones he’d seen in hospitals.

He was closer to losing cognitive thought than he’d realized—the new sedative had started to work terrifyingly fast—but he finally put the pieces together with the odd spikes around the bed. “This is the Tau field.” No wonder Aren thought he could get Jainan to take the blame. If he had a genuine trained interrogator, a Tau field could make Jainan believe anything. He would implicate himself.