Lord Boggond surveyed his visitor. “Voqras, you say?”

“Yes, Your Grace.” The cyborg came nearer. “Sutor Voqras, a first-class modified bionic, mercenary captain. As it says in Governor Horbell’s letter, I work for him.”

Boggond walked around his desk and planted himself in front of the bionic. “I’m still not sure why you’re here.”

“The news of Areg Sebi’s disappearance and your police chief’s failure to capture him reached Governor Horbell.” Voqras shifted, crossed his arms over his chest, uncrossed them, and dropped them by his sides. “He sent me here with two of my men to offer a helping hand.”

Boggond said nothing.

“Please rest assured,” the cyborg continued, “that this offer is nothing but a gesture of goodwill between two neighboring Baylian Arm realms.”

“There’s no such thing as goodwill in the Baylian Arm. Or in the Homeland Arm, for that matter, and certainly not in the Silver Path.” Boggond narrowed his eyes. “What do you want?”

“To assist your police chief,” Voqras said, unfazed. “And, in doing so, show you what Governor Horbell’s hive cyborgs are capable of.”

“I’ve made inquiries about what hive cyborgs—Horbell’s or otherwise—charge for their services. Eia can’t afford your help.”

“I’m on Governor Horbell’s payroll, Your Grace, and I’ll remain so during my mission on Hente.” Voqras moved his feet apart and clasped his hands behind his back, giving up on trying to stand like a civilian. “Consider it a free demonstration.”

“All right, let me rephrase my question. What does Governor Horbell want?”

“To make a friend.” Voqras took a step toward Lord Boggond. “His Grace is new to the whole governing thing, and to the League of Realms. He doesn’t have many friends yet.”

“Why me?”

“He admires you.”

Calculated flattery. Still, he couldn’t help asking, “For what?”

“For the way you pursue your destiny, Your Grace. Relentlessly, never wavering, removing every obstacle on your way, no matter how big.”

It had to be said, the cyborg’s words hit the bull’s eye. His description fit Lord Boggond’s self-image to a T, as if the man had glimpsed into his soul. Could it be that his employer, Polit Horbell, was sincere in his letters? What if his repeated offers were an outstretched arm from a kindred spirit with no hidden agenda beyond gaining himself an ally? What if the voice Lord Boggond heard in his recurrent dream was the voice of reason?

“So, you were sent to help Chief Ultek,” he said. “I’d like to know what I’d be expected to do in return, if you succeed.”

“As I said, Your Grace, nothing. Strictly nothing.”

Lord Boggond arched an eyebrow. “All right, suppose I believe you. Continue.”

“If you’re impressed with my performance and decide to borrow an entire squad of hive cyborgs, then Governor Horbell would expect you to vote whichever way he needs you to vote at the LOR, and your support in any inter-realm—”

“Conflicts.”

“I was going to say matters,” Voqras said. “Governor Horbell has no reason to believe anyone plans to attack Tastassi.”

Lord Boggond smirked. “I was rather thinking he was planning to attack someone.”

“His Grace has no such plans.”

Voqras’s tone was firm, and his voice as even as ever. Then again, he was a hive cyborg. Their emotions ran about as deep as the automatons.

“All right,” Boggond said. “Let’s see your demonstration. How do you plan to start?”

“As a matter of fact, I already have. My men and I landed on Hente last Second-day, so I had time to meet with Chief Ultek and do some work in Iltaqa.”

Lord Boggond arched an eyebrow.

Voqras looked him in the eye. “May I give you my assessment of your police chief, Your Grace, just to get it out of the way?”

Boggond nodded.

“Chief Ultek is incompetent and needlessly brutal with the population,” Voqras said.

“He isn’t without flaws, but he gets the job done.”

“Does he?” Voqras raised his shoulders just so. “I suppose he does, if you count clumsy assassinations, heavy-handed intimidation, and evidence of Areg Sebi’s guilt so thin few in Eia bought it. And even those who did are having second thoughts now that his escape is attributed to Aheya’s intervention—”

“It was a LORSS intervention.”

“The hive mind agrees with your analysis.” Voqras bared his teeth in what probably passed for a smile among his kind. “But what people think is more important than the truth, isn’t it, Your Grace?”

Boggond’s lips thinned as he turned to stare out the window. “You come here, uninvited, and try to undermine my most reliable henchman—”

“I have no interest in undermining any of your henchmen, Your Grace,” Voqras said. “In fact, I’ve been working with Chief Ultek since the beginning of this week to catch Sebi.”

“Is that so?”

“I’m not surprised he didn’t tell you about it. He doesn’t want to share the limelight in case of capture.”

“And now you’re doing it again,” Boggond said.

Voqras spread his arms. “The man’s asking for it. What he did in Castya, burning the whole burg to the ground, was… ill-advised.”

That was exactly what Boggond had told Ultek, but he wasn’t going to disown his “most reliable henchman” in front of Horbell’s “first-class cyborg.”

“Who could’ve expected that Achlins Ghaw, that damned attention-getter from the Iltaqa Gazette, would dare cover it in such a… biased manner?” Lord Boggond said.

“I suppose he’ll disappear soon, and the Gazette will be shut down for some absurd reason or another.”

Boggond chose to sidestep. “The Orogate Daily is publishing the true account tomorrow… Tell me, how does Governor Horbell handle similar nuisances?”

“He has the most capable hive cyborgs in Xereill,” Voqras said, not without pride. “We handle them for him, Your Grace. We act preemptively.”

“Oh please.” Boggond rolled his eyes. “Next, you’ll tell me you’ll capture Sebi this week.”

“I will, as a matter of fact, and I’ll let Chief Ultek take the credit.”

Boggond surveyed him. “I don’t doubt your abilities, Sir Voqras, but I’ve had my entire police force and part of my army on Sebi’s trail for two weeks. And nothing.”

“I’ve put a plan in motion,” Voqras said. “My men and I talked to people, lots of people. We gathered information and fed it to the hive mind. It processed everything and gave me the weak links. Which I exploited through Chief Ultek. We have a solid lead.”

“Sounds fancy.”

“If everything goes to plan,” Voqras said, “I’ll bring you Sebi in twenty-four hours.”

Boggond squinted at him with incredulity. “Twenty-four? Hours?”

“That’s correct, Your Grace, hours,” Voqras deadpanned. “The hive mind gives me a ninety-two percent chance you’ll have Areg Sebi tomorrow.”

Boggond said nothing, just stared at him.

Voqras pushed his chest out even more than it already was. “The hive mind is almost never wrong.”

“Will I have him dead or alive?” Boggond skewed a smile, half-sarcastic half-gleeful.

“You choose.”

His mouth tightened. “Dead.”

Voqras gave him a brief nod and strode out the door.