Code Name Igor Page 22

  A snorkle beside her, Lord Axel with his face in his hands, trying to not laugh. "I never thought . . ."

  "Thought what?" Lord Andre stomped up. "What's going on?"

  Axel cleared his throat. "I was going to give a tour of the house to some friends." He waved up the stairs. "Instead, Lady Kysusha and her daughter Dina have joined forces with Anastaciya and Veronika to plan the remodeling of the whole west side . . ."

  And then the ladies were clattering back down the stairs.

  ". . . breakfast room is my favorite place in the entire house." Lady Veronika was all smiles as they trooped past.

  The men followed as empty rooms ("parlor of your own") were examined and the side entrance . . .

  "If you put in a little drive you could have a private entrance, just for your best friends . . ."

  Axel stepped away and flagged down a maid. "Tell Miss Vera there will be five guests for dinner."

  Five? Natasha gulped. He doesn't actually mean for me to sit at the table with them? She braced her shoulders and joined the women. "You know, you could fancy up this lav for guests, and then these stairs up, a wood facade over the metal and you'd be close to all the bedrooms . . ."

  She pretended she didn't hear Nikoli say something to Axel about the cost.

  "Cost? Just wait until the Historical Society hears about this. They'll hear the screams of outrage all the way Up Top." Axel grinned. "It'll be interesting to see just how much we can get away with. Figuring out how best to finance it will be the easy part."

  Then they all climbed the stairs, chattering about their children. They got introduced to the whole horde—seven of them, from the toddler to the two seven-year-olds. Then they poked around all the unused spaces.

  Dina eyed all the empty book shelves in the rooms where Axel used to live, and turned firmly away. "So you've got more than ten years before you need to think about suites for the oldest, but anything you do with the plumbing probably ought to keep that in mind . . ."

  Ky glanced back at the men. "And if it's a matter of budgeting, you simply do it in stages, which is a good idea, anyway, so your entire house isn't a disaster all at once!"

  Lady Anastaciya nodded. "Perhaps, if Lord Axel could wave his magic wand at the Historical Society, and then move huge slabs around as if it were easy, we could do the major deconstruction first, then the finish work which will involve spending money, bit by bit."

  "And then there's all the antique furniture stuffed into the back rooms." Natasha put in. "We could pull it out and you could pick any you wanted, before finalizing your decor."

  "Anastaciya actually likes Modern." Veronika gave her a show of teeth.

  "Modern, offset with a few real quality antique pieces, can be striking." Lady Ky sighed. "It would be quite the treasure hunt. I do hope you'll let us in on the fun."

  Then they got the "not-on-the-regular tour" tour through the ultra-modern commercial grade and immaculately maintained kitchen in the basement, where Lady Ky complimented Miss Vera, the cook, on the delicious odors, and Miss Anya on the spotless mansion. "All those marble floors! The polished antiques! The sheer size of the building! You and your crew do an amazing job."

  A short cut through the gym and up yet another set of stairs to the site of the two battles.

  "Which I obviously haven't even tried to repair." Axel shrugged and pointed out the well-trashed and burned room where the portal had opened. "They got close to forty soldiers through before Vlad shot the beacon. And a damn good thing he called me when he noticed the twins were acting oddly, so the Fast Reaction Teams were on the way."

  Lord Andre eyed his cousin. "So . . . are you happy Stuttgart is going to help us?"

  "Oh hell no." Axel scowled. "I give it a fifty-fifty chance they'll turn on us and become the next invasion."

  Mitty snorted. "That low?"

  "I'm an incurable optimist." Axel shrugged. "Shall we go down to dinner?"

  They followed the arrows on the walls, backtracking through the labyrinth with a few detours to poke into rooms Natasha remembered holding furniture. Some of which had the Ladies looking thoughtful.

  And if Natasha sitting down with them brought a few glowers from the Lords, the maids found it amusing and . . . Mitty, even while talking sports and politics, seemed to be taking in all the subtext of the staff's interactions with the lords.

  I'm so used to it I stopped noticing how the women all give Lord Andre and Lord Nikoli as little opportunity for touching them as possible. And how they move so the women have to rub up against them. The servers are even stiff toward the Ladies. But Lord Axel they don't even think about it. They know he's safe. That he'll lean a bit to make a reach easier, instead of harder. No touching, no leering.

  And they're relaxing now, around all the Gagarins. Because they're all decent people.

  And it's a bit funny . . . how Ky and Dina are setting an example of genuinely kind behavior . . . and the ladies are sort of picking that up.

  Interesting. I know Dina regained her intelligence after taking Axel's healing wine. I wonder if she regained Mentalist Talent? And if she can subconsciously impress behavior?

  Or maybe the Ladies just needed a good example to follow.

  After coffee with the dessert, she and Axel walked the Gagarins out to their car, stopping to look back at the brightly lit building.

  "It's like a crystal palace." Dina sighed.

  A snort from Axel. "It's an office building designed by a man with no architectural training that is nearly impossible to actually live in. I really appreciate your redesign, we'll just have to see how much we can get past the Historical Society."

  Vlad eyed him. "Not worried about the money?"

  "Not really. They've adjusted to the new situation, better than I'd thought possible, and with me picking up half the servants' expenses, they're enjoying running their own households and not having to go to Lord Vladimir to beg for funds. Even when the finances get a bit stretched." Axel flashed a grin. "And bumping their creativity like tonight? You ladies were superb!"

  Natasha got a goodnight kiss from Vlad, and suppressed sympathy at the wistful look Dina threw at Axel.

  And as they drove off she eyed him. "No goodnight kiss for Dina?"

  "She needs to finish catching up to herself. And realize I'm not her fictional hero."

  Natasha eyed him. "That's going to be tough, since apparently you're the hero who broke the curse."

  He sighed. "I dread her realizing she doesn't love the real me. And hope she never does. And, in case you were wondering, I approve of your taste in men. Man. Good luck."

  Lord Andre was lurking inside, eyeing her. "Getting a bit above yourself, aren't you?"

  Axel laughed. "Give it up Andre. She's your daughter and she's got an Exec chip. Of course she's going to look toward a working class lord, and a legal marriage."

  Lord Andre choked a bit.

  "What? It never occurred to you that most of the servants are either sisters, daughters, or nieces? And that's just the women. You've got brothers, sons, and nephews down there, too." he turned and headed up the front-east stairs.

  She followed him on up to the third floor where he'd started living—part time—in his parent's old apartment, before she couldn’t stand it any longer.

  "Lord Andre's my father?" her voice squeaked a bit.

  "Yep. Being appallingly curious, I checked. Pauli and Barf are both Nikoli's, and poor Dimitri is Uncle Vladimir's."

  "Yikes! Lord Andre!" She kept going to the fourth floor, and the room she shared with her mom and sister.

  Forget Andre, he's never been a father to me.

  So Axel is . . . my first cousin, once removed? I mean, I should have guessed that already. So I’m just as closely related to him as Lady Anastaciya’s children?

  And "Of course" I should be hunting for a lord to marry?

  Good Luck? Yes, for me and for Dina.

  ***

  And good luck for the Twins as Axel slowly worked through tangles
of ownership to get clear title to several properties and sold them, increasing the Twin’s Trusts and generating more income. And grumbling about not have enough time to untangle his own stuff.

  “My Great Grandfather, wisely not trusting Vladimir, hid assets behind shell companies with their bank accounts swapping funds to look like real businesses . . . and left me some puzzles and passwords to hunt them down when I turned fifty. It’s . . . a challenge. By next year I may even have it all figured out.”

  Natasha snickered. “And what would have happened if you died or something?”

  “God only knows. There seem to be five completely separate . . . webs. The one I’ve tracked all the way down has been going strong for the thirty-eight years since he died. I suspect all five may have kept right on going for another century or two.”

  “Wow.”

  “No kidding. And here I am with no more vacation time to hunt them down.”

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Who you gonna trust?

  Wednesday, May 15, 3739

  "After two and a half months of diplomacy and politicking, the Stuttgartans have negotiated a lease of the Fairgrounds for six months, starting right after the Fall Fair. So, for better or worse, they will have a place to put those five hundred soldier Cyborgs and their officers that the Council has decided is a good compromise."

  Axel wasn't the only one nodding, and had no doubt but that everyone there shared the anger showing through the Boss's announcement.

  "They also," anger getting stronger, "have gained permission to emplace a dimensional beacon and open portals, as needed for troop movement and supply."

  That got a frozen silence.

  Right. So on top of my unease at the silence from the 300 or even the Alliance Bureaus, I get to contemplate the local government having gone totally insane. Or maybe just naively trusting? Terminally stupid? Frightened?

  All of the above. And they are crazy.

  "So," the Boss continued, "we will continue our usual presence at our gates, and find out what extra duties we pick up when the Stuttgartans open their own gate. The schedule has changed a bit, with personnel shifts. Check it, comment if needed.”

  ***

  "I just really hate assuming they are benevolent. I mean, what percent of True Men would you lay yourself open to?"

  The breather at the halfway point of the morning run had turned into a debriefing, as the Cyborgs and the two trainee Mentalists quizzed him on Stuttgart.

  Murph snorted. "I know. Even you lot who work up here . . . even the mentalists we work with, who are cleared for teams, you still get idiots like Whiz who tries Control on his own Team Members."

  And got himself and one of them killed.

  "Exactly. And we're trusting these people we don't know to just set up a system to warn everyone about aggressive worlds. If they think we look yummy . . . we're in trouble.

  "So I've been thinking about contingency plans. We need to protect some key people, just in case. If we could get the Quads out of sight . . . and put a portal coffin in the right place, blinking the right lights . . ."

  Murph nodded. "They'd assume certain things."

  "And anyone with a kill switch needs to try hard to not stand out." Axel bit his lip. "I'll talk to the Boss about burying the controls deep."

  Ape winced. "That's something I hadn't worried about for years. Damn, Igor, get the dye out of your hair and your brain starts coming up with the scariest damn things . . ."

  "And speaking about the Boss, we'll keep an eye on him. They wouldn't dare touch the Inquisitor, would they?" Murph glanced toward the big building behind them. "And then there's you."

  "About half the civilians I care about are in the process of disappearing themselves. And yes, I am watching my back." Axel glanced at his watch and pried himself off the ground. "But right now we need to get back and suit up. We're on Portal Two in an hour." He trotted back into the chilly wind and picked up speed. Tried to not show he was feeling a bit winded.

  "Poor Igor the Grey Bearded Lab Assistant!"

  "I have got to get back into the routine. It's been . . . I don't remember how long it's been since I got in a run before breakfast."

  A tsk from Zilla. "Memory, it's the second thing to go."

  Chapter Thirty-two

  The New Reality

  Thursday, June 20, 3739

  Axel stood back, hair dyed and trying to look harmless as Governor Berezin paced.

  Two more men walked in, Vasily Viktorov of the Businessman's Association and Dr. Jenner, the head of the Cybernetics Center.

  "Right, we're all here, why don't we all sit down." The governor took a last turn across the room, before finally settling down in his chair.

  Three Councilmen, the Director of the Alliance Office, Inquisitor Gorbachev, the Chief of Police, and the representative sent from the Research Center, were already there.

  Axel stayed standing against the wall with Mr. Matveev, the junior Inquisitor, and the Councilmen's trio of Execs.

  The governor rapped his knuckles on the table. "Not that this meeting is actually taking place. And no minutes are being kept.

  "It is the end of June and neither zivvy nor explanation have arrived."

  Dr. Kratsov shrugged. "It's not as if we have to deal with unruly natives, Nikita. We don't have the same need for zivvy as most Worlds."

  Councilman Balabanov shook his head. "You won't say that when we lose a Portalmaker!"

  Oops! Outside the loop of our experimental portal-making quads.

  Director Rasputin waved that away. "We have a sufficient supply in storage to keep us in Portalmakers for decades."

  The Boss is a truly slick liar! And could easily be telling the truth about the zivvy.

  The Governor snorted. "Yes, because we stopped routine chipping."

  Dr. Jenner scowled. "Which is destroying the Cybernetic Center. I've released all the contracted labor, but I can't, I won't, let the surgical staff go. Four surgeries in five months? How am I supposed to run the Cybernetics Center with no zivvy and no income?"

  The Inquisitor shrugged. "Perhaps you should convert to a more general surgical hospital? At least until such a time as zivvy shipments restart."

  "The hospital is a beautifully balanced symphony of sixty standard chips a day, with three days recovery on site. Every other Monday, Wife chips, Executive chips and plates, as well as anything even less common. My staff is specialized. We cannot simply switch to other surgeries."

  Axel refrained from suggesting that Jenner pack up his equipment and go back to Regulus. And stay there.

  "Then send them off on extended vacations." Councilman Lord Kamenev obviously didn't realize the staff—with two exceptions—were all chipped. Property, with no money of their own. Even the surgeons were Execs.

  Which wouldn't bother me if they were properly trained physicians, rather than programmed automatons.

  The third Councilman, Vosnesensky, winced.

  Victorov sighed. "So long as Regulus continues to allow us to open portals to them so we can import food and raw materials, we'll be fine. If it goes on long enough we'll just have to pretend the new workers are chipped. Some legal issues as to their status as property may arise . . . So far we've been 'leasing' them from their parents, since it's uncertain whether unchipped people can be bought or sold."

  He shifted a bit in his seat. "Actually, I've found them to be more intelligent, more easily trained, and good workers. Long term, I suggest we just hire them like we do the working class lords. For lower wages, of course."

  Chief of Police Nestor Naoumov snorted. "Crime rates are plunging, as the teenagers realize that if they stay out of trouble they don't get chipped. The problem's going to come when we get zivvy and they realize it's going to happen anyway."

  The Chief looked up the table at Dr. Kratsov. "I do have a slight problem, with identification. Is it possible to manufacture a small chip that just contains the usual identification number and basic information, that could be
stuck under the scalp where we check for real chips?"

  Jenner looked totally affronted. "Under the scalp!"

  The Chief sighed. "Yes. And right there, partly because that's where we stick the scanner, but mostly because it can be removed easily when the real chip is installed, possibly years from now. Mind you, it would have to clearly not be a real zivvy chip."

  "That sounds like an excellent stop-gap measure." The Boss jumped in. "How much of a problem would designing and manufacturing it be, Dr. Kratsov?"

  "Trivial. Something that simple would be small enough to be injectable. Even Dr. Jenner's ill-trained 'surgeons' could manage that without needing to be reprogrammed."

  Jenner glared.

  Victorov was nodding approval. "And if the information on the chip included birthdate, as proof of adult status, and the Council would allow us to hire them, the economy can just roll along without a problem."

  Axel considered that. If this goes on long enough, maybe we could outgrow the old pattern and never go back to chipping.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Watching and Worrying

  Monday, September 16, 3739

  “This is such a bad idea.” Vlad kept his voice down, standing beside the Chief of Police as the lead elements of the Stuttgartian Army rolled through the portal. One big car turned and pulled up beside the governor. Staff car? The military version of a limo? The next car kept going, headed for the Fair Grounds. A parade of trucks followed.

  The Fall Festival ended yesterday, they haven’t even finished cleaning up.

  An Officer stepped out of the staff car and the governor stepped forward.

  “Welcome to Siberia Max, Colonel Lehr. I’m Governor Nitka Berezin.”

  A cordial handshake. “Come and meet our Chief of Police, Nestor Naoumov. I expect your people will be working with his, and the Director of Alliance Affairs here, Mikhail Rasputin, the head of the local Office of the Inquisition Grigory Gorbachev . . .”