do with their grain and mineral wealth than any real threat they might pose, not to mention their arrogant stand of defiance against the ideology of Mann. Still, it would be a chance to escape the confines of Q’os, all its fanaticism and paranoia and games of power that were the life blood of the imperial capital, and all the petty little tasks of murder that had remarkably become his life.
Ché looked to the window that ran along the far wall at the level of the viewing gallery, gazing out north over the slumbering metropolis of Q’os. A few skyships ranged over the scene, their propulsion tubes leaving trails of fire and smoke across the starry skies. Below them lay the island city, a great handprint of glittering lights and manmade coastline pressed upon the black quilt of the sea.
Ché traced the outline of the island-sized hand, until his attention came to rest on the First Harbour – that stretch of water between the thumb of the island and its forefinger, where pinpricks of night-lamps glimmered in the darkness; the fleet that would carry him off to war as soon as the command was given.
‘As Nihilis taught us,’ the speaker below him was saying, ‘and as we have practised and refined over the years of our expansion, to rule absolutely is to rule on the one hand with force, and on the other hand with consent. People must become complicit in their own submission to Mann. They must come to understand that this is the best and truest way in which to live.
‘This is why, when the order first seized Q’os in the Longest Night, it disposed of the girl-queen and the old political parties of nobles, yet still maintained its democratic assembly. And this is why the citizens of the heartland and the Middle Empire vote for the High Priest of their city, and those lesser administrators of their districts, in an act which we call the hand of complicity, the hand that allows the people a small say in the governing of their own lives, or at least the appearance of it. This is the secret of our success, though it is hardly a secret. This is what allows us to rule so efficiently.’
Ché’s lips twisted at that. He knew it took more than the two-handed way for Mann to maintain its grip on the known world. He was a Diplomat after all, part of the third hand, the hidden way. As were the Élash, those spies and blackmailers and plotters of coups and counter-coups. As were the Regulators, the secret police; those who watched the masses for signs of dissent or organization, and who claimed everything a crime that ran contrary to the ways of Mann.
He noticed that Deajit too was smiling as he listened. For an instant Ché felt the vaguest of connections with the man. Perhaps he was also involved in the third hand. For the first time he wondered what he had done to deserve such a fate as this, for his handler had said nothing save what needed to be done.
But then Deajit turned and stepped towards the doorway, and it was time.
Ché took a step forwards so that the priest brushed past his arm. In a flash, Ché grabbed the man’s wrist and spun him around so that they faced each other. A look of shock crossed the priest’s blunt features.
Without warning, Ché planted his lips against those of Deajit, smearing them together in a harsh kiss.
The priest shoved himself backwards with an angry gasp. He glared at Ché, and from the wrist he was still gripping Ché felt a shudder run through his body. ‘You should not betray the trust of your friends so freely,’ Ché told him quietly, as instructed, and released his grip. His own heart was beating fast.
Deajit wiped his lips with the back of a hand and retreated from the room with a single glance cast back at Ché.
For several moments he waited as those around him nervously avoided his eye. He turned his back on them, and took another vial from his pocket, and emptied some of the black liquid into a cupped palm. He washed his lips clean then rubbed his hands too. With the last of it he rinsed his mouth then spat it onto the floor.
In the corridor outside, Deajit was nowhere to be seen.
Like that, he cast the priest from his mind entirely, as though the young man was already dead.