“THE SAFE WAS WELL HIDDEN,” Dido says. “But of course our men are nothing but thorough. Fortunately, the krypteia who discovered it was one of mine.”
“If you are so thorough, then you know what sort of safe that is,” I reply before Cassius can speak. The safe might hold our damnation in our family rings, but it also is our only leverage. It can’t be lost. “It is a halcon-7. It has four inches of rolled steel with an analog tumbler lock instead of a digital mechanism, which makes it impervious to electronic incursion. More importantly, it has three Sun Industry military-grade plasma charges embedded on the interior wall faces of the safe. You drill, it will detonate at a temperature of three thousand degrees Fahrenheit. But of course you know that, or you would have already opened it.”
“Indeed,” Dido says. “Personally, I would very much like my daughter’s efforts not to have been spent in vain.” She holds up a finger as I’m about to reply. “And I would be wary if I were you at further insulting my intelligence by claiming your razor is not inside this safe. I bear insults poorly.” Then her lips slide into an enigmatic grin. “But open it for me, and we can be friends again. I am a most generous friend.”
I glance at Seraphina.
“Is that the only reason we’re alive?” I feel foolish for letting her lower my guard. A strain of grandmother’s malice pulses into me, despising her attempts at manipulation.
“Castor, let the adults speak,” Cassius says slowly, his eyes fixed on Dido. “The safe can be opened, for a price.”
“A price?” Seraphina laughs in appreciation of his boldness.
“We are merchants, after all,” Cassius replies.
“What is your price?” Dido asks.
“For the key to your war, I offer a bargain. Give us our ship. Give us our pilot, and any surviving crewmembers of the Vindabona. Give us our freedom. And once we reach safe distance from Io, we will send you the combination.”
Dido wags a finger at him. “Are you trying to make a fool of me? Castor left out a feature of the halcon-7. Didn’t he? Clever boy. A secondary detonation code. One that can be given in place of the real code. One you could supply me with when you are cruising toward the Belt.”
“And why would I want to destroy what’s inside?” Cassius asks. “We take no issue with your war. Only your value of our lives.”
“Yes.” She runs a finger over her lips. “Why indeed?”
The silence grows to terrible length.
“On my honor, I’ll send the proper combination,” Cassius lies. He’d rather die than let them have their war.
“Your honor.” Bellerephon laughs at a private joke. “Be thankful we do not peel you like tank shrimp.”
“They are guests,” Diomedes says sternly. “They have eaten our bread, supped at our table. No guest in the history of our house has been violated. Not even Fabii and the Reaper. Not even the Ash Lord after the Burning of Rhea. Do not disrespect your ancestors.”
Bellerephon rolls his eyes at his cousin and turns to his aunt. “Aunt Dido, we don’t have time for this. Vela is already rallying legions at Karath.” If Vela escaped, then Cassius is right again. The coup is not concluded. “The Codovan will be coming too. Our allies are nervous. Some won’t stand by us if Vela attacks. We need the evidence.”
Dido opens her hands to us. “You see my predicament. There is no time for your proposal. One option remains, and that is to trust me. Have I not been a good host? Have I not shown honor?”
Does she think we’re so stupid?
Cassius smiles. “You have my terms.”
Seraphina looks to me. “Castor, no harm will come to you…”
“My brother speaks for the both of us,” I reply.
Dido leans back in her chair and nods to a Brown by the door. “Tell Pelebius to bring in his pet.”
“Have you a new creature for the children?” old Gaia asks in delight. Her wrinkled neck cranes in anticipation as an old Violet with a black mustache limps into the room. “Oh. Vile.” She frowns as he carries in a glass jar filled with noxious yellow liquid. Something stirs within, but I can’t yet make it out. The Violet stands ominously at the end of the table.
“It is said that a life is made great by sorrow and joy.” Dido stares at me, then Cassius. “But you men are cursed. You will never really understand life because you do not know what it is to bear a child. To push a life from your flesh. To have two hearts beating inside you at once.” She looks at the empty seat beside Seraphina. She takes the flower there between her fingers. “To have had seven hearts beating beyond you, carrying your hopes, your dreams. And when one of those hearts stops…you feel it as if it were your own.”
She crushes the flower in her slender hand and lets the mangled petals drift free one by one to settle on the barren bones of her fish.
“The story of their life ends. All those dreams gone. And you begin to forget them. You begin to loathe yourself for time ill-spent with them. For your grief stealing the joy their life brought as their memory begins to fade.”
More Obsidians enter the room and stand behind us.
“My daughter, my Thesalia, was not made in my image or Romulus’s,” Dido whispers. “She was a birth of air. A sweet girl. A vessel of all my joy. Eleven years ago Thesalia went with her grandfather Revus to see Mars and attend Augustus’s summit. She wanted to see the Valles Marineris. The Olympus Mons. Eleven years ago she watched her grandfather die and felt fear as her head was caved in by a Martian boot. My joy vanished that day, and as a family, we swore vengeance upon all those responsible. Roque au Fabii, Lilath au Faran, Aja au Grimmus, Adrius au Augustus. Antonia au Severus-Julii. Octavia au Lune.” Dido’s lips curl. “And Cassius au Bellona.”