When I ask questions you tell me not to pry, Jainan thought but bit his tongue.

He turned back. “Sorry,” he said into the continued silence. Taam hadn’t moved,

standing by the drive as the flyer left. “I’m sorry. Who did you meet with?”

Taam gave him another stare, this one of disbelief, and burst into sudden movement to walk past him. “Never mind. Nelen!”

“Sir!”

“What appointments do I have tomorrow?”

Taam’s aide kept up with them as he carefully consulted his wristband, falling into step with Taam, while Jainan’s footsteps echoed out of time on the marble.

“Sir, tomorrow you have a debriefing with General Fenrik at ten, physical training at twelve, then you are free until the Thean embassy reception at six.”

“More damned Theans?” Taam said. “Why have I got more Theans in my calendar? I’ve only just got away from them.” It was a joke, because he was in a good mood, but that mood seemed to be fraying fast.

“This was put in your calendar by your partner, sir,” the aide said, with an expressionless glance at Jainan. He barely ever named him. Taam was unpredictably annoyed if Jainan’s Thean title was used in private, but also if his subordinates used Jainan’s first name.

Jainan retreated into a statement of fact. “The Ambassador requested our presence, Taam.” He could explain further, but it seemed like wasted effort when he knew it was unlikely to help.

“So he could whinge at me about the Imperial soldiers throwing their weight around in Thean space?” Taam’s voice went high and nasal on the last part. He sounded nothing like the Ambassador. “Heaven, give me some peace here. I’m not going. Neither are you.”

“But—” Jainan said.

“Give it a rest, Jainan.” Taam turned the corner to their rooms abruptly.

“Anything else?”

“Count Jainan has offered to help with the Kingfisher accounting,” the aide said. As he said it there was an odd echo to his voice. The air smelled of copper.

Something in Jainan’s head crunched like two gear wheels colliding. He nearly didn’t hear Taam laugh and say, “So you finally got tired of lazing around, did you?”

“Did I?” Jainan said blankly. He struggled to remember exactly what he’d said to Taam’s aide about it, because his mind suddenly felt slippery. He couldn’t let the others see he was having trouble.

Taam waved an impatient hand. “Well, if you’re going to nag me about it, we might as well put you to work,” he said. “I’ll get you permissions to our accounting files.”

Jainan stopped in his tracks. He put a hand out to the wall of the corridor: it felt smooth and solid, but for some reason his nerve endings were lying to him.

Everything smelled of copper. “This isn’t real.” He swallowed. “Taam’s dead.”

The aide’s face flickered, and behind it he saw the features of Aren’s Tau field technician, overlaid like two projections in the same space. There was a sudden stab of pain in his head and his surroundings dissolved.