Title: Mutable: Chapter Seven, Part One
***
Chapter
Seven, Part One
Cas lay on his husband’s bed on
his side, back to the small room’s door. He didn’t need to look to know when
someone was coming, and facing away gave him a chance to let the phage rest and
recuperate without the strain of maintaining his disguise. He kept his face
buried in the pillow and tried not to groan as his muscles sagged with relief.
He’d never held another person’s
identity for so long before. Even as similar as he and Beren had been
physically, there were still enough differences to make it a challenge. A
little sharper across the cheekbones, a little wider at the bridge of the
nose…Cas wished he could take a breathing tube and submerge himself in a hot
bath for a few hours. Since that wasn’t about to happen, though, a break was
the next best thing.
Listening in on the
mostly-shouted conversation Rone was having with his commanders and the head of
the diplomatic corps at the same time? That elevated Cas’s current status from “next
best” back up to “absolutely best.”
“—gravely insulted the president
himself with your accusations!” That voice was attached to a face Cas hadn’t
seen in person yet, but the others referred to the man as “Captain Barreos.”
“If he had given me an adequate
explanation for why shadowy assassins crept into this camp, which is officially
sovereign Imperian territory while we’re here, then I wouldn’t have called him
an incompetent fool,” Rone said with a cool voice.
“He was calling you to
apologize!”
“Apologies are worthless when the
giver is insincere about what they’re apologizing for.”
There was a dull thunk. Captain Barreos must have hit
something with his hand. “It was a diplomatic coup just to receive his personal
attention!”
“And that means I should abase
myself before him?” Rone sounded a little more snappish now himself. “I should
accept his lies as truths and let him and whoever ran this operation against my
husband get away with attempted
murder? Absurd. It would not only weaken my personal position with him, it
would weaken our status as a whole to accept those pathetic fabrications.”
“I can’t believe you married a
refugee,” Commander Jepson moaned for the third time. “Married him. Are you mad? How could you let this happen?”
“Don’t look at me,” Darven said.
“It wasn’t my idea, the captain he makes his own decisions.”
“You’re supposed to be his
friend! This will just give his opposition more reason to doubt that he’s fit
to command!”
“You two.” Rone must have made
some sort of movement, because they both shut up. “Captain Barreos, I’m sorry
that I’ve made your position with the Leelanger government more challenging,
but I’m not going to apologize for taking care of my husband and securing my
camp against further intrusion.”
“You sent armed guards into the
streets!” The captain sounded apoplectic. “You had them raid a building and
arrest three civilians!”
“Civilians who were found in
possession of heavy artillery, listening devices and recordings of this camp. I
call people like that spies, not
civilians.”
“You can’t prove they’re spies.”
“Well, what kind of spy carries
around a badge with their title on it?” Rone’s anger sounded like it was
getting the better of him again. “I’ll return all three of them as soon as the
Leelangers explain themselves in enough depth and quantity that no stone is
left unturned. And they have less than a day to do it in, because the military
mission here is officially over.”
“But my mission isn’t!” the captain exclaimed. “I’m supposed to be
setting up new diplomatic channels with these people, negotiating trade,
regularizing relations! How can I do that when we’re holding hostages?”
“How indeed.” If Rone had sounded
any less interested, he would have been asleep.
“Captain Basinti, I want you to
know that I plan to file an official complaint to the admiralty about you.
You’ve grossly overstepped your mission boundaries and compromised everything
we’ve been working for.”
“Hmm. Very well, do that.” There
was a faint sound of skin on skin—he was folding his hands, perhaps? “And I’ll
be sure to file my own complaint alleging your spineless incompetence in the
face of covert enemy action. My husband was attacked, do you understand that?”
“He isn’t really your husband—”
When Rone interrupted, his tone
was pure ice. “Beren and I are legally bound in matrimony by recognized Imperian
law, witnesses and all. The circumstances surrounding the marriage are irrelevant
in the eyes of the courts. The letter of the law dictates that he is now Imperian,
and subject to our rules and protections both.
“Leelanger assassins—creatures like
I’ve never seen before—crept into our closed, independent military facility and
attempted to murder him. If he hadn’t been fast on his feet, Beren would be
dead right now, and you would really have
a problem on your hands then, because I would already have marched on the statehouse
and taken the president prisoner until his people explained themselves and gave
me the criminals responsible. Does this make my position any clearer for you,
Captain?”
There was a long silence. “Yes,”
Barreos said tightly. “It does. I will…do my best to salvage things with the
Leelangers. You won’t be necessary for the rest of the mission here.”
“Good. I appreciate your
understanding. Basinti out.” The transmission ended with a faint ping, and a moment later Darven
whistled.
“You put the fear in him, sir.”
“You were completely undiplomatic.” Jepson sounded like she was about to cry.
“Sir, how many times do I have to remind you that your situation is tenuous, at
best? If everything went perfectly on this mission, you would still be looking at at least five more
years of council oversight. I’m trying to get you out from under their thumb as
fast as I know how, but you are not
making my job easy.”
“Nothing worth doing is easy.”
Rone sounded apologetic, but Jepson just scoffed.
“You seemed to find betraying
your nation a decade ago easy enough,” she snapped, then gasped. “Oh. Oh sir, I’m…oh,
I’m so—I’m so sorry. I…I don’t know what came over me, I…”
“You’re tired.” Rone sounded surprisingly
compassionate for a man who’d just been accused of treason. “It’s
understandable. Go get some more sleep, Sophie. Tomorrow will be a busy day.”
“I…yes, I will, but…”
“Go on. Please.”
Cas heard her leave, and it was
another long moment before Darven said, “She’s not completely wrong.”
“She is where it counts.”
“Your big old heart’s going to
get you killed someday, Captain.”
Not if I have anything to do with it, Cas thought viciously. He was
a little surprised at his own vehemence. Rone was sticking up for him. He was defending him against the Leelangers,
even the president! And against his own people! No one had ever done that for
Cas before. He would have to pay the kindness back at some point.
“You look beat,” Darven
continued. “You gonna go lie down with your hubby for a while before next shift
starts?”
“No,” Rone said quietly. “Beren doesn’t
need me in there making him nervous. I’ll catch a nap later on the ship.”
“Whatever you say.”
That was good, that he was
staying away. It gave Cas longer to rest his phage, and more time to plan the
next phase of his operation. He was happy about it. Really.
You keep telling yourself that.
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