time,” Malik says. “The guy had no business bringing a yappy dog on campus.”
And then comes a voice from behind that no one is expecting to hear. “You didn’t unwind it; you killed it,” says Skinner, suddenly no longer unobtrusive but the center of everyone’s attention.
“Excuse me?” says Dagmara seething with indignation.
“Did you really just say that to me?” says Malik.
Dagmara turns to Divan. “Is this how you train your valet? To talk back to your guests?”
Divan sighs. He needs no more drama at the table. “Apologize to my nephew, Skinner.”
Skinner just stands there, refusing to look at anyone.
“I said apologize,” Divan says more forcefully.
“I’m sorry,” Skinner finally says.
And to keep this from escalating any further, Divan decides to remove Skinner from the situation. “You’re excused. Bula will serve the rest of the meal.” Bula steps out of the shadows to take over, and Skinner disappears toward his quarters at the rear of the plane.
“There should be consequences,” Dagmara says. Divan agrees, but not with who those consequences should be for.
The meal continues in an uneasy silence. Malik leaves after dessert without as much as a good-bye, and once he’s gone, Divan gets down to business.
“Mr. Sonthi, toward what end have you intruded on this time with my family?”
There’s an uncomfortable pause. It’s Dagmara who answers. “He has a proposal from the Dah Zey. I think you should hear it.”
Divan takes his time, rimming his espresso with lemon rind. “I’m listening.”
Sonthi leans forward. “This war between us helps no one,” he begins. “It is our hope that we can pool our resources, and make a greater profit for all of us.”
Divan knows exactly where this is going. “You want UNIS.”
“It’s no secret that your machine can perform an unwinding in only fifteen minutes. With this technology, we could downsize our harvest camps, while increasing our output. In return, we are prepared to offer you a generous percentage of our profits.”
“In other words, you propose to buy me out.”
“Think about it, Divan,” says Dagmara. “No more attacks from the Dah Zey, no need to fear for your life, and more money than we’re pulling in now.”
Divan takes a sip of his espresso. “I will not surrender my business to an organization as bloody and barbarous as the Burmese Dah Zey. Not now, not ever.”
Then Dagmara finally shows her hand. “You forget, dear brother, that I control your ground operations. Without my distribution network, you can’t move a single unwound part.”
“Are you threatening me, Dagmara?”
“I’m merely trying to get you to see reason.”
Divan turns to Sonthi, his decision made—but in truth it was made even before they began speaking. “When we land in Kamchatka, you will be put off my plane, Mr. Sonthi. I trust you’ll be able to find your way home from there.”
Then Divan excuses himself, not wanting to be in either of their company a moment longer.
5 • Argent
There’s not much room in his tiny cabin to pace, but Argent can’t keep still. Divan has entertained the likes of parts pirates and contract killers, but none have gotten under his skin the way Malik has. Perhaps because those others do what they do for money, not for pleasure. As Divan always says, it’s strictly business, and no matter how illicit the business is, the joy comes more from the profit than from the act. Surely the black market is rotten with sociopaths, but Malik feels like a special case.
And Divan made Argent apologize!
There’s little enough self-respect left in Argent, and that just about killed it.
There’s a knock at his door. He suspects it’s Divan come to lecture him on his place in the scheme of things, but it’s not. It’s Malik, the beast himself, come to pay a visit.
“Nice closet,” he says. “Can I come in?”
Argent knows if he denies him entry, he’ll get in even more trouble. “I already apologized,” Argent says. “What else do you want from me?”
“I want to give you the chance to make it up to me.” Malik steps in, and Argent has no choice but to let him. “Things will be changing around here. You can either be part of the change, or be steamrolled by it.”
“Nothing’s changing unless Mr. Umarov says it is,” Argent tells him.
Malik doesn’t speak to that. Instead he says, “Show me my uncle’s harvester.”
Argent wasn’t expecting that. “I . . . I’m not allowed.”
“But you can get in, can’t you? I want to see UNIS. I want to see how it works.”
“I told you, I can’t.”
And then Malik